Behind the Mask
by booksandhockey
Summary: He'd just revealed his secret identity to a complete stranger, and that alone implied that he trusted me. That was enough, right? He was Spiderman. That should be enough. -PeterP./OC
1. Chapter 1

**_Behind The Mask_**

_ONE: All of New York Minus One_

_.:::._

Hi Reader! This is a fanfic that I've written before but now I'm looking to make it better. Your feedback and opinions throughout will be super helpful! Let me know what you think, and don't be afraid to give constructive criticism! I hope you like reading this as much as I like writing it!

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.:::.

The elevator was not my preferred method of descending five floors, but I didn't have a choice. I needed to get to the lobby as quickly as possible, before all of the taxis were taken, and before my brother's life managed to slip away.

I got the call from my mother. Although I could barely understand a word she was saying, I gathered enough information to understand that Greg was shot. I saw the police chief on the news before she called me, and a strange feeling washed over my senses. I worried about Greg, seeing how he was a proud and occasionally cocky member of the NYPD, but I couldn't know for sure if he was okay. The awful feeling in my stomach was one I never felt before, and that alone was enough to scare the hell out of me.

I felt a clump in the higher section of my chest, right around the area of where my heart would be. I didn't cry, my father taught us better than that. But it still hadn't sunken in yet.

I watched the orange button with the down arrow blink as it prepared an elevator on my floor. All I could feel was a sense of urgency. I needed to be there, my big brother needed me. If I took the stairs, I knew my weak and nervous knees would collapse in my rush and I would never get to the hospital. But this elevator thing was torturous.

Finally, the large silver doors opened, revealing a single body inside. I didn't give him much of a glance, just enough to tell he was a man. I stepped inside quickly, pressing the button for the lobby, even though it was already glowing.

The silver doors started to close, but the pace was that of a dead snail. I bit my lip to calm my nerves, and wrung my fingers until they were red. My stomach rolled when the elevator dropped a little. I hated elevators.

I studied the numbers above the door as they changed from five to four to three. I sighed, reminding myself to stay calm. Greg would wait for me, he knew I was on my way.

The metal box jerked violently to a stop, forcing me to grab the wall for support. The metal on the outside screeched to a halt. The lights flickered three times and then snapped out.

I held my breath in the silence.

The dim backup lights kicked in after a second, but the silence was deafening. The elevator stopped moving.

The elevator stopped moving.

"No," I murmured to myself. My eyes started stinging with the tears that would undoubtedly spill over. "No, no, no!"

I raced to the red phone hanging beneath all the buttons and lifted it to my ear. "Hello? Hello? Is anyone there? Hello?"

The phone was dead.

I banged on the metal doors until my knuckles were numb. This could not be happening to me, not now. I needed to see Greg, I needed to know he was okay.

My tears blurred my vision to the point where all I could see was the thick wall of water over my eyelids. Not to mention that awful moan shattering the silence.

"It's alright." The man in the elevator helped me lower myself onto the floor. "Elevators break down all the time."

"No, you don't understand!" I cried, ready to throw a temper tantrum. "I need to get to the hospital!"

"Are you hurt?" He asked. I didn't give him the regards to look at his face.

"My brother!" I couldn't say anything else between the sobs.

Greg was dying. He would die before I even got a chance to say goodbye. I didn't care what Dad said. I cried hard.

"Don't cry. It'll be okay."

I decided to get a good look at the poor soul who was stuck there with me. He crouched down to my level and kindly patted my back. He was young, close to my age. His hair was messy, windblown even. It reminded me of Greg's hair when we were growing up. He had it all shaved off now.

"I'm Peter."

I cleared my throat. "Olivia." I wiped my eyes, probably smearing my mascara all over the place. I spoke in gasps; the hysterics still hadn't passed. "I can't lose him. I have to get out of here."

Peter rose to his feet, searching the ceiling for something. He spotted the emergency exit and looked back down at me. I could tell he was conflicted.

I climbed to my feet as well, wobbling on shaking knees. "Can we get out of there?"

"I think so, but what happens after we get out?" His eyes were thoughtful, looking past me. "There's nowhere to go."

I combed my brain for all the possibilities, but there weren't any to consider. I needed to face the fact I would be stuck here until help arrived.

I dropped my face in my hands, well past tears and now approaching frustration.

"It isn't fair! We live in the 21st, century, and we can't even keep a damn elevator running for five floors!" I kicked the metal doors, making my toes throb.

"Abusing the elevator isn't going to make it run," He said under his breath.

I kicked it again. "It's better than doing nothing!"

He physically took a step away, probably offended by my aggression.

I sighed. "My brother was shot. He might be dying, and I always take the stairs here, but I decided to take the elevator because I thought it would be faster, and of course the one time I take it, it breaks down and now I'm stuck in a friggin' metal box while my brother is..." I couldn't finish, tears breaking my voice again.

Peter stayed quiet, contemplating the ceiling again.

I watched him in disbelief, knowing that there was nothing he could do. He stood on his toes to push back the door on the ceiling. The elevator shaft echoed when the metal hit metal.

He found a solid grip on the rim of the opening and effortlessly lifted himself up and through it.

I stepped below the opening. "What the hell are you doing?"

He reached his hands back through the hole, offering them to me. I hesitated, but decided I didn't have a choice. I placed my hands in his.

He held them for a few moments, and I wondered if he was going to pull me up or make me do it myself.

"Can you keep a secret?" He asked me.

I blinked. "What?" He stared me down, waiting for an answer. "Yes."

He slipped his hands down to my wrists and lifted me through the hole very smoothly, like I weighed no more than ten pounds. I steadied myself on top of the elevator and looked at him with wide eyes. "How did you do that?"

He shrugged, studying his surroundings. "Piece of cake."

I let the inhuman strength pass. "What now?" I looked around at the tall, steel walls of nothing.

He rolled up the sleeve of his sweatshirt to the wrist. "So you can keep a secret?" He repeated, this time using his eyes to force me to be truthful.

I nodded to be sure. "Yes, but what does that -"

My words got caught in my throat. A thin, silver string shot from his wrist and attached to the very top of the elevator shaft. I recognized it right away, just as the entire city of New York would.

"Oh, my God." I clasped a hand over my mouth. "You're...you..."

"Why the surprise?" He smirked, reaching for my hand. He curled me into his side, and we started rising before I even realized what was happening.

I was obsessed with memorizing his face, the face that was hidden behind a mask to all of New York. Now, all of New York minus one.

He noticed my stare. "You're not afraid of heights, are you?"

"No," I just ignored the fact we were dangling from a spider web in an elevator shaft. "I just..."

"Not what you expected?" He finished for me.

I stared at him some more. "You're just a normal guy. I mean, no one would ever guess that you were behind the mask."

"That's kind of the point, isn't it?"

I understood the keeping secrets question he presented earlier. "You're right."

We reached the top ledge of the elevator shaft, which conveniently led to the roof. I'd never been on the roof of a building before, but the wind was stronger and the height made me nauseous.

Greg reentered my mind and focus. "I need to get to the hospital. The one off of 37th."

He nodded. "Right. I would assume you don't want to wait for a cab in traffic?"

I caught on to his hint. "Would you mind?"

He peeled off his sweatshirt and pants to reveal that unique red and blue suit, sliding the mask over his features. "It's the least I could do." He stepped up to the edge of the ten story building. "Are you ready?"

It didn't soak in until then that I was graced with the presence of the most beloved hero of New York City. The intricately designed suit outlined his figure, the lights from the street below reflecting off of his mask. He was the definition of superhero.

I knew I had to trust him in order to get to Greg in time, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. He'd just revealed his secret identity to a complete stranger, and that alone implied that he trusted me. That was enough, right?

He was Spiderman. That should be enough.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Behind the Mask**_

_TWO: Photography _

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_.:::._

My cheeks were clammy from resting against my arm for so long. I squinted my eyes shut tighter before I opened them. The sunlight was beating on my face.

I lifted my head and discovered myself to be in a bed, specifically Chase's bed. It caused me to panic a little. We'd never gone far enough to sleep in the same bed together. He usually put me on the sofa, or vice versa. What does that mean happened last night?

I couldn't remember, and it scared me even more. Chase was still asleep, his bare back facing me. I grabbed at my chest, relieved to find I was still wearing my bra and tank top. I still had my jeans on, too.

The panic wore away, and it was replaced with pain. My head throbbed like someone was playing a giant drum inside of it as it pulsed evenly. I pressed my palm to my forehead, trying to ease the pain.

My nights were beginning to blur together, all consisting of drunken stupors. It wasn't like me at all. I hadn't spoken to my parents in days. I couldn't remember half of the events in my life at all, but I did know that it had been exactly two weeks the night before since Greg was killed.

The bullet struck his neck, and he'd basically bled to death before they could get him medical attention.

I met Chase when the NYPD stopped by my apartment to express their condolences. It was the next morning, when I was still a wreck and sleep deprived. He was an officer himself, as well as the main trainer and handler of K-9 Onyx, the sweetest German Shepard I'd ever met. Onyx accompanied the two officers that visited.

I spotted the pup sprawled across the floor, still deep in sleep. I raised myself to a seated position and checked the clock. I had an hour before my new photography class started.

I slipped my feet over the side of the bed when Chase rolled his body onto his back. I watched his eyes flutter open. He winced at the sunlight, too. "What are you doing? He grumbled.

Monday was his only day off. He acted like it was the worst luxury in the world. "I have class at nine." I whispered, for his sake and mine.

He muffled something into the pillow that he used as a shield from the sun.

"What?"

"Skip it." He said louder.

"I can't." I whined, wishing I could. I was excited for Photography, but I didn't feel like attending a class at nine in the morning after a hard night of drinking - although that was my fault.

His fingers locked around my wrist. I slipped them off and kissed his cheek. "I'll see you later."

His reply was nothing more than a grunt.

I splashed water on my face in the bathroom and combed my fingers through my long, black hair. My fingers caught a knot and I winced at the tugging on my head. I snatched a bottle of aspirin from behind the mirror before I left.

By the time I made it outside it was nearly eight thirty. I'd missed the bus, and the subway would take too much time. Taxis are hell when there's traffic.

I started speed walking down the sidewalk and secretly wished Spiderman would show up again. I hadn't seen him since that night in the elevator. Then again, I hadn't been home much since then, and I hadn't taken the elevator at all. Maybe it was all my imagination. Who knows what the hell happened that night?

I shook the thoughts away before they could get to me. I made it to class with only seven minutes to spare. Of course, I was sweaty and received some curious glances when I walked in, but at least I made it.

I sat myself in the back near a decent-looking girl who was shuffling through papers in a folder. I had no idea where she'd gotten so many, it was only the first day of class.

At nine, she stood up and gathered her folder. Her red hair bounced in its clip as she skipped to the front of the class. She faced the fifteen-or-so students and wore a big smile. "Good morning, everyone. My name's Audree Denton. I'm excited that you're all interested in photography!"

I glanced around the room at the other students, as did they. This girl was talking like she was our instructor.

I checked the letter I'd received about the course, and found the instructor's name to be Denton, A.

"I have a course description and layout sheet I'll hand out to you." She couldn't have been a day older than me. How was she teaching the course? "Does anyone have any experience with -"

She was cut off by a familiar face that burst through the door. His cheeks were flushed red, and every pair of eyes was directed at him.

"I'm sorry." He said quietly, feeling the pressure of his peers.

"That's okay, it's the first day. I'll give a little slack." She grinned, waving her hand at him. "Oh, but I'll need your name."

He swallowed roughly. "Peter Parker."

She traced her finger down the list of our names, and poked it at the paper. "Peter, take a seat anywhere you like." She gave him an extra cheesy smile.

Peter's eyes lifted to search for any empty seats. I shifted my eyes and played with the dead ends of my hair when he almost caught me staring. I saw him sit down in the center of the room.

Audree finished taking attendance and proceeded to discuss the goals of the class. She babbled about cameras and lenses to the point where I was questioning whether I wanted to take the course or not.

I figured this would be a fresh start for me, and serve as the distraction that I very much needed. I still couldn't believe the same man in the elevator appeared in my class, though. It was too coincidental.

Thankfully the clock struck ten a.m. and I rose to my feet. The blood rushed to my head and I had to use Audree's desk to catch myself.

She grasped her hand onto my shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." I assured her. "Just a little dizzy. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure? You don't look well."

I nodded my head and tried to force my feet forward.

Audree caught both of my shoulders. "Please, just sit down for a few minutes."

I shifted my bottom into a chair and held my face in my hands. The world was still spinning. It was Chase's fault. He always convinced me to have just one drink, and then suggested another, and by then I decided to drink more on my own. I couldn't let her know that, though.

"Olivia?"

It was painful, lifting my head up again. Peter's eyebrows created a straight line over his eyes.

"I think she's going to pass out." Audree told him. "Do you want me to call someone for you?"

"No," I insisted, slowly finding steady footing. "I'll be fine, really."

"I'll help her get home." Peter said, hooking his arm under mine. "We live in the same building."

Audree agreed, even though I wasn't sure that I did. I wasn't necessarily comfortable with Spiderman escorting me home in the midst of possibly the worst hangover I'd ever had. This behavior wasn't like me at all. I got straight A's and B's in high school, I was studying to become an English major, and I never had a drink a day in my life before two weeks ago. I was a completely different person, a person that I didn't want anyone to see.

"You're saving me again." I mentioned, trying my best not to press too much weight on him.

"I'm used to it."

I didn't speak again, mainly because I couldn't trust myself to say appropriate things. He seemed to understand.

Before I knew it, I was in the lobby of our apartment building. I hadn't made the connection that we must have lived together before now.

"What floor are you on?"

"Five." I whispered.

It took me a second to register that he'd pressed the button for the elevator. The silver doors creaked open, and I was paralyzed with fear.

"It's okay." Peter promised, rubbing my shoulder.

I took in a deep breath. I couldn't expect him to carry me up the stairs, and there was no way I could do it myself. This elevator was my only option.

I forced myself inside and closed my eyes. He held onto me steadily the entire time. The elevator hit the fifth floor so smoothly that I thought we flew.

"Room number?" He asked.

"Five seventeen." I said.

He acted as my crutch all the way to my door. I tried the handle, but it was locked. I felt for my keys in my pocket, and my stomach literally fell to my feet. "Shit." I groaned.

"No key?" He guessed.

"I left it at my boyfriend's house." I realized. "With my bag."

He thought to himself. "Can you call him?"

I dug my phone out of my jacket and called Chase. My knees were dangerously close to giving out, so Peter helped me lower myself to the ground. I leaned my back against my door. He crouched beside me, waiting for Chase to answer.

His voicemail picked up. He was probably still asleep. I slapped the phone shut and dropped it into my lap, digging my fingers into my hair. "I'm so sorry about this." I told him.

"Don't be." He insisted. "Everyone has a right to get drunk on a school night now and again."

I laughed a little to myself. "That isn't true." It made my head throb again. I frowned.

"Sitting here isn't going to make that feel any better."

"I know." I whined, holding my head.

He rose to his feet and lifted me by my hands. He threw my arm around his shoulder and started walking back down the hall, towards the elevator.

"Where are we going?" I asked him weakly.

His response was simple. "You need to rest."


	3. Chapter 3

_**Behind the Mask**_

_THREE: Damsel in Distress_

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.:::.

I squinted at the sun again, this time because it was piercing through two buildings and created a mask just over my eyes. The only reason the sun ever did that in my apartment was when it was almost four in the afternoon, or six in the summer time.

I was a little disoriented, recognizing the layout of the room but not the things inside it. The pillow under my head had an unfamiliar smell, as the bed had an unfamiliar feel.

I curled my body to get the harsh sunlight out of my eyes. I let them adjust to my new surroundings.

I heard the soft but rather annoying tones and beeps coming from a police scanner. Greg always had one, and Chase used one, too. He turned his off sometimes, though.

Why was there a police scanner in my apartment? It wasn't my apartment; I was locked out of my apartment, I reminded myself. This wasn't my apartment...and this wasn't my bed!

I shot up into a sitting position, ignoring the dizzy sensation in my head. I spotted my jacket hanging off the bed post beside my shoes and my phone on the bedside table. The digital clock there read four thirty.

I had just slept in Spiderman's bed for over six hours?

I looked down at the way my legs wrapped around the sheets and the thick blanket surrounding me. I kicked them both off and shivered as my skin was exposed to the air.

It didn't sound like he was home, but I still carefully stepped down to the wooden floor. I pulled my shoes on my feet and grabbed my phone in one motion.

I picked up my jacket and started looking for the door to leave when my ears caught a gentle thump that had come from the balcony. I shifted my eyes to the glass doors and instantly spotted the red and blue suit.

Spiderman noticed my escape attempt and I froze. He pushed open the doors from the balcony and walked inside. "Where are you running off to?"

I was still frozen, not with fear but in awe. "Um,"

He tugged the mask off his head and revealed a less intimidating face beneath. He ran his fingers over his balmy forehead and messy hair. Just a normal guy, I remembered. A normal guy still waiting for my answer.

"I was - I figured I would just - I don't want to be a nuisance."

He basically ignored me. I watched him dig in a drawer for a plain t-shirt and sweatpants. "Do you want some water or something?"

I became suddenly aware of the dryness in my throat. "Water?"

He smirked at me, the stupid fangirl that could barely speak in his presence. "I'll be right back. Don't try and run away again."

I set down my jacket to show him I wasn't going anywhere.

He left for the kitchen, taking his new clothes with him. While he was gone, I took in a deeper observation of his apartment. He wasn't the neatest person, but it didn't bother me. One of the reasons it seemed so cluttered was the books scattered about the room. Lots and lots of notebooks, textbooks, all kinds of books.

Peter returned and offered me a water bottle. I thanked him kindly for it. He was now dressed in his simple sweats, which allowed me to become generally more comfortable. I managed to take a seat on the edge of the bed.

He waited for me to take a sip of water before he started talking again. "I heard about your brother." He frowned when my caramel colored skin turned white. "I'm sorry."

I switched on the numbness. "It's okay."

The way he looked at me indicated that he didn't agree.

I picked at the label on the bottle. "I know getting drunk isn't the best way to deal with it. But I'm not hurting anybody, so it shouldn't matter." I peeked up at him. "Right?"

He pursed his lips. "Are you sure you aren't hurting anybody?"

I pondered the thought. I hadn't spoken to my parents in a significant amount of time, and Chase encouraged all the drinking. "I don't think so."

He scanned his eyes over me, pointing out my current condition.

"Oh." I said quietly, ripping the label in half. I was hurting myself, wasn't I?

"You're in a stranger's apartment because you couldn't walk on your own two feet." He said. "I'd consider that inflicting self-harm."

"But we're not strangers." I said, and sort of regretted it. "I mean, I've met you before. And you helped me get to the hospital and you trusted me with your secret identity." I reminded him. Why did I talk so much?

Peter sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Maybe not my best decision..."

I tried to mend it. "I wouldn't tell anyone."

He held back a smirk and took a sip of his own water. This seemed to be a habit of his, smirking at my honesty. Maybe I was just gullible.

"Can I ask you something?" I blurted.

Peter lowered the volume on the police scanner.

"You were on the elevator the other night,"

"Yeah, I think you were there, too?" He pointed at me with the smart comment.

I had to smile a little. "What is Spiderman doing on an elevator? Why don't you just shoot some webs and fly?"

He chuckled at my word choice. "That's like me asking why you don't skip everywhere. Just because you can do it, doesn't mean you always want to."

I didn't agree, but accepted his answer anyway. "You didn't have to help me." I said, lowering my voice. "You could have just let me rot for hours in a metal box. It wouldn't have made a difference. Greg still would have..."

His answer was delayed. "I know."

I swallowed hard. "So why did you do it?"

I watched his face change slightly as he formed his response. "A decent guy would do anything he could if he ran into a damsel in distress."

It was the first time I felt a nudge of warmth around my heart since that night.

I didn't waste time moving on. "So this morning, when you were late to-"

"You know, this is more than just 'something'."

I raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"

"You said you wanted to ask me 'something', as in one thing. This is going on your third 'something." He told me.

I didn't really know how to respond to that.

He answered anyway. "I was late because I wanted to drop off photos of myself at the Daily Bugle."

We stared at each other until I burst out laughing. "Seriously?"

He didn't see the humor in it. "Well...yeah. Nobody else gets as good of a shot."

I dropped my eyes to my lap. "Oh."

My phone started ringing in my lap, interrupting us. I read Chase's name on the caller ID.

"Hey," I sighed, remembering my key at his place.

"Where are you?" He questioned. "I have your stuff and I'm on my way."

My eyes locked on Peter, and slowly widened. "Oh. I'm...okay. I'll meet you there."

"You okay?" He asked over a car horn. "You sound different. What happened today?"

"I'm fine, I just spent the day...out and about." I added a nervous laugh on the end. Peter shook his head at my awful lying skills. I bit my lip, embarrassed.

I ended my conversation with Chase and scrambled to get out of the bed and gather my things again.

"Are you okay to get home by yourself?" Peter asked me.

"I think so." I snatched the water bottle from the bed and verified that I had all of my belongings.

"Olivia,"

I snapped my head up at my name. "Hmm?"

His smile was playful. "Don't forget to breathe. That's important."

I smiled back, feeling another pinch of warmth in my cheeks as I let out the air I was holding in. "Right."

He walked me to his door and opened it wide, revealing a long hallway that would lead to the elevator - or in my case, the stairs.

"Thank you so much for everything." I said in the most sincere way that I could. "You didn't have to do any of it."

"You're welcome. Just try not to drink so much next time."

"Hopefully, there won't be a next time." I stepped out into the hall, but turned around again. "I'll see you on Wednesday, right?"

He nodded once. "Photo at nine a.m. sharp."

I nodded to verify, and then forced myself to keep walking. I still had so many questions for him. I'd have to ask him another time.

The numbered plates on the doors began with a seven, indicating that I was on the seventh floor. I had to take two flights of stairs down to five.

Chase was leaning against the wall next to my apartment. He rested my bag next to his feet, and twirled my keys around in his fingers.

He straightened up and smiled when I approached him. "There's my girl." He kissed me once on my lips.

"I'm sorry." I said. "Today was a really weird day for me."

"No worries." He grinned mysteriously, holding my keys up to my face and then inserting them into the lock. "We've got all night to catch up. After we stop by the chief's house tonight, I think we should crash here." He pushed open my door.

"The chief?" I asked, dumbfounded. Then I remembered the monthly spaghetti dinner held at the police chief's home located just outside the city for select officers and their families. Greg used to go, but I was never invited. Until now.

"Don't you remember? I asked you to be my date last week."

I nodded too many times. "Right, right. I remember."

Chase allowed me inside first, following behind. "I sort of have to go, but you can stay here if you're not up to it."

"No, I'll go." I insisted. "It'll be fun."


	4. Chapter 4

_**Behind the Mask**_

_FOUR: In the Neighborhood_

_.:::._

I've just realized how rude I've been for not thanking you all for your lovely follows and favorites and all that good stuff! I'm glad that you like this so far, but I'd also like to know what you think I can do better? Don't be afraid to review! Thanks again for reading :)

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.:::.

I should have known Chase would give me a hard time. I should have mentally prepared myself for his drunken rampage. I didn't, and I paid the price.

He scuffed past me on the elevator (we couldn't take the stairs because I physically could not haul a 200-pound drunken man up five flights) and started to stagger towards my apartment.

"Chase, please just wait a second." I watched him catch himself on the wall as I dug for my key in my pocket.

"I wasn't ready to leave." His words were terribly slurred together. "Take me back."

I shuffled past him to get to my door as quickly as possible. I didn't want him to cause a scene, although it may have been too late for that. I fiddled with my key in the lock when his massive hand enclosed on my wrist in a tight grip.

"Let go." I tried to stay calm, because getting upset would only fuel him.

"You don't own me." His hot and repulsive breath hit the back of my neck. "You can't tell me what to do."

"I had to get you out of there. You're too drunk, and you almost lost your job because of it." I attempted to wriggle out of his grip. "You're hurting me."

His face changed, like he completely forgot what we were discussing. "I want some coffee." He muttered, releasing my hand and staggering back down the hall. I sighed heavily.

I got the door open as quickly as possible and kicked it wider with my foot. Then I hurried down the hall to catch Chase.

A man dressed in a nice suit had to dodge Chase's unpredictable footing when he passed by. He raised his eyebrows at me, but all I could do was bite my lip.

I spotted Chase heading for the stairs. "Wait!" I latched myself onto him. "You're going to get yourself killed, falling down all those stairs."

"I just want some damn coffee! Is that too much to ask?" He fought my hold, and it was in my favor that he was weak and unstable from the alcohol.

"I have coffee in my apartment." I couldn't guarantee it, but I figured he would forget by the time we got back. "Come on, you need to go to bed."

"What the hell? It's only eleven." His voice was getting louder, and I started to panic.

"Shh! Don't you understand? You need to come with me. Now!" My voice rose a bit in frustration.

"No! You never want to have any fun. Just like Greg." He loosened my grip.

He had to have known that would hurt me, that's the only reason he said it. My chest was clogged with something thick, and my throat was tight. I released him. "Fine. Do whatever you want. Sorry I tried to help."

I started back to my room at a fast walking pace. I didn't want him to see me cry, especially since it would be the first time I did since that night. It didn't hurt my feelings as much as it hurt my pride. How did I get wrapped up in somebody like him? A month ago, I would have never even breathed the same air as a guy like that.

I locked my door after I got inside and flipped on the lights. I breathed in the fresh, beer-free scent in the air, and decided to make myself a cup of tea to calm down. I turned on the hot water and dunked the tea bag in my mug, still slightly wondering if Chase actually fell down the stairs.

I lifted my mug carefully and took a tiny sip. A lovely wave of warmth coated my body, and I finally felt calm again.

I flinched at the sloppy banging on my door. "Hey, Liv?"

I bit my tongue to discourage a groan. "What?" I snapped at him.

"I'm sorry, babe. I'm just...tired and I need...need to sleep." I could hear his mouth in contact with the wood on my door.

I chewed my lip as I tried to decide what to do. If I let him in, he would hopefully just crash on the couch. If I left him out there, he'd be whining all night long and I'd be evicted from my apartment.

I reluctantly unlatched the door and opened it slowly, in case he was using it to support himself.

"Go on." I said, without making eye contact. "Get on the couch."

He wobbled a bit and attempted to step forward, but nearly lost his balance. I held my mug in my free hand and wrapped the other arm around his back to direct him to the couch.

I could see his eyes glazing over, so I had to be quick. He made it just barely to the edge, and toppled down into unconsciousness. When he collapsed, his arm bumped my head and disturbed my mug of hot tea, causing it to splash and sizzle into my skin.

I screamed for half a second and then shoved my good fist in my mouth to keep the sound from concerning my neighbors. I set down the now half empty mug and pat the wetness on my jeans. My hand and fingers were beating red.

I rushed to the sink and stuck my hand under the cold water, feeling a different kind of relief than I did when I drank the tea. I pulled my hand away to see the damage, as it started to create splotches of red that would later turn into blisters.

. . .

I woke up early, before eight, and scribbled a note in my loopy handwriting onto a scrap piece of paper. I left it on the coffee table in front of Chase, as it was meant for him:

_I want you to leave when you wake up. Don't call me, don't wait for me, just get out. I don't want to hear from you anymore. Help yourself to some water in the fridge before you go. -Olivia_

I gathered my camera and my notebook in one of my backpacks before I closed the door behind me. He was already late for work, but he wasn't my problem anymore. I didn't care, and it felt good.

I wasn't in any rush to get to Central Park. Usually, I spent my early Tuesday mornings unpacking and shelving the new shipment of toys at Toys 'R Us in Times Square, but there wasn't a shipment the first Tuesday each month. I still had to work Thursday, probably managing the indoor ferris wheel. I was lucky to get the job, but it wasn't what I needed. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't make a career out of playing with toys.

Central Park was always busy on nice mornings, especially down this end. I walked along the wide path, occasionally smiling at dog walkers and joggers, before coming to the beautiful stone bridge that ran over a small stream. I saw a couple get engaged here once when I was little, and I'd always dreamed it would be that perfect for me.

I pulled out my camera and wiped the lens with my sleeve before snapping some random photos of nature and people and both of them together.

I froze at the false deep voice behind me. "No flash photography, please."

"I'm sorry..." I turned to find out who was scolding me for something so harmless. A surprised grin spread across my face. "Peter?"

He shrugged humorously. "It's a small world." He rested his elbows over the edge of the stone wall. "Are you some kind of over-achiever? Do I have to start watching out for you?"

I followed his eyes to my camera. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, we haven't been given an assignment yet, and you're out here at the crack of dawn shooting everything that walks by."

I dropped my camera so it dangled by the strap around my neck. "I just like taking pictures." I noticed his sneakers. "And what are you doing here, going for a brisk morning jog?"

"Coming off my fourth lap. You have to burn off the extra energy somehow." He smirked. He was wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, probably to conceal his suit, but none of it was sticking to his skin with sweat like the other joggers. He didn't even look winded, just a small trace of stickiness at his hairline.

"Wow." I gawked at his endurance. Then I blushed at my own thoughts and I hoped he didn't notice.

We didn't talk for another few moments or so, absently watching the people around us doing different activities. It was nice to have him there, he made me feel safe. I couldn't really tell if I felt that way because I knew who he was, or if it was just Peter.

"Are you alright?"

I refocused my eyes. "Yeah. Why?"

He shrugged it off to show it was out of curiosity. "I don't know, you just seem..." His voice faltered, and he laughed on the end. "I guess I don't really know you that well."

I wasn't surprised he could sense something was wrong, and I wanted him to know he wasn't being weird. "There's a lot of things I'm thinking about, if that's what you mean."

Peter leaned over the ledge to stare at the stream running beneath us. "Well if you ever need a pair of ears just let me know."

I smiled softly, watching him try to hide his face from me out of a shyness that was almost too innocent. "I'll remember that." He stood up straight again and I was suddenly afraid he was going to leave. "So four laps, huh?"

He grinned. "No more, no less."

"Spiderman has that much extra energy to spare?"

"If I didn't run four laps, I wouldn't be able to sit through that photography class." He said, still grinning. "I still struggle sometimes."

I smiled, because I could barely sit through that myself. And I was only human. "I think that's a personal issue."

"Call it as you will." His voice was almost drowned out by a round of sirens that echoed through the city streets. He looked longingly in the distance, then drew his eyes back to me.

I jabbed my thumb in the general direction. "Do you need to take that call?"

"I'm already in the neighborhood." He said casually, before he started jogging back down the path. I watched him gradually speed up into a sprint, dashing behind a few parked cars, and seconds later he was shooting webs at buildings and flying through the air, no one witnessing a single change of wardrobe.

I flinched when I thought I was dropping my camera over the ledge of the bridge, but then I remembered it was attached to my neck.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Behind the Mask**_

_FIVE: Right and Wrong_

* * *

.:::.

It was just after noon when I found my way back to my apartment, and I was surprised to find it the same way I left it: an empty bowl of cereal in the sink, a damp towel hanging from my bathroom door, and a hung-over Chase draped across my couch.

"You've got to be kidding me!" I muttered to myself, slamming the door behind me. Chase didn't even stir.

I marched to the edge of the couch and shoved a hand at his hip. "Hey, get up."

His eyes squinted shut, and eventually fluttered open. "Hmm?"

I grumbled at his fake innocence. "Get up. I want you out of here right now."

Chase lifted his arms over his head in a stretch. "What's wrong, babe?" He asked groggily.

"Chase, I'm not kidding. Get out." I pointed at the door to prove my point.

He propped himself up on his elbows. "What's your problem?"

"My problem? Maybe it's that I had to literally drag you out of the Chief of Police's house last night because you were too drunk to do it yourself, or maybe it's because your nasty breath stunk up my apartment. Maybe it's that I had to go feed your dog this morning because you were here, passed out on my damn couch like a pig!"

He rose to a full seated position, trying to console me with his hands. "Hey, now, no need to be like that." I wasn't kind enough to loosen his clothes after he passed out, but his tie was dangling due to heavy sleeping.

I was choking back tears, and I didn't know why. "Chase, get out!" My weak voice betrayed me. "I don't want to see you again!"

He saw my eyes becoming wet and rushed to my attention. "Don't cry, Liv. I'm sorry, it won't happen again." He reached his arms to encase me in a hung-over hug - he was only doing it to make me stop yelling at him.

I stepped away from him, a stern and serious look in my watery eyes.

Chase sighed, feeling the throbbing of his head, and slipped passed me. "I'll get in the shower so you can cool down."

I pounded my fist into his chest, his firm stomach halted by it. "I want you to leave." I dug my eyes into his to help the information get passed his thick skull.

It seemed to click, because he frowned and lifted his shoulders. "Fine. I'll leave. I won't come back."

I kept our eyes connected.

"I'm serious, Liv. I'm not coming back."

I folded my arms across my chest. "I'm still waiting for you to leave."

He hated that I got the last word, and threw my door open. He kicked it closed behind him. The sound of the window sill shaking with the force of the slam was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard.

The window caught my attention, and I hurried over to it to let the nasty beer fumes escape. I unlocked the latch and tried lifting it, but the stupid thing always got stuck.

I locked my fingers around the handle and lifted it with all my strength, only raising the glass about three centimeters off the sill. I grunted in frustration, blinked twice, and Spiderman was on the fire escape.

I gasped at the sudden appearance. "Oh!"

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." Peter tugged his mask off his head. I could hear him through the small space the window allowed open.

I stared at him, generally shaken up by my life at that moment.

He observed the situation. "Need some help?"

My heart was still drumming, but I nodded eagerly.

He slipped his red-suited fingers under the window and hoisted it up as if it were a cloud. He stuck his head in the opening and watched me. "What are you doing?"

I was bracing myself against the lamp next to the couch. I let it go and wiped my sweaty hands on my jeans. "I'm fine." I said.

He waited for me to say something else, resting his arms over the sill.

I had to start pulling myself back together. I didn't want Peter to see me like that again. "Um, you didn't hear any of that, did you?"

"Not if you didn't want me to." He picked at the cracking paint on my window sill.

"H-how did you know my window was stuck?" I stuttered, realizing his timing could only be made by a stalker.

He dropped his eyes to his lap. "My spider senses..."

"Your what?"

He chuckled at himself. "I get this tingling sensation at the base of my skull when someone needs help, or if something's wrong." He rubbed his hand over the back of his head and laughed again, messing his own hair. "It's weird, but it really helps sometimes."

I watched how the breeze from the altitude blew his lengthy brown hair back into place. "No, it's...interesting."

He watched me some more, like a bird in a cage. It took me a minute to realize I was being rude. "Do you want to come in?"

"Do you want me to come in?"

I hesitated before answering. "I do."

He raised an eyebrow at my uncertainty, but invited himself fluidly through the window. When he stood upright again, he was no more than a foot away from me. It was still strange, seeing him wearing the spider suit.

He crinkled his nose. "What's that smell?"

I rolled my eyes and walked toward the kitchen. "Drunken cop."

He took a few steps in the same direction. "Sounds fun."

I ducked under the sink and searched for a can of air freshener. "If only you knew how much fun I had last night."

I stood back up with the can and faced him. He took my phrasing in a different, inappropriate way. "Please, spare me the details."

"Not like that, I mean it wasn't...I was being sarcastic." I felt my cheeks pulsing with embarrassment.

His grin indicated that he was just playing with me. I lifted the can and started spraying the room with the scent of fresh linen.

Peter used his inhuman speed to catch a hold of my wrist in the air. I watched nervously as his brown eyes directed themselves to my hand. "What happened?"

"It's nothing." I said quickly, but not quick enough. He pushed up my sleeve and exposed the red and pink blistering skin hidden beneath.

His eyes connected with mine, forcing an answer.

I wiggled my hand free and set the can on the counter. "I burnt myself when I spilled some hot tea, it was an accident."

He continued to stare at me.

"I'm clumsy." I added. My heart had yet to slow down.

I flinched at the sudden knock on the door. I stepped around Peter, the sleeve of his suit brushing my arm. I paused after taking a few more steps to turn around and tell Peter to hide, but he was already gone.

I found myself pouting and already annoyed by whoever was at my door. I turned the handle and opened it as far as the chain would allow.

"Liv, don't shut the door." Chase made sure I would follow his instruction by poking his finger through the tiny opening.

I was speechless, in denial that he was actually back again.

"Can we talk?"

I traced my eyes down his body through the crack in the door. He held a small bouquet of yellow daisies in his rough hands. He probably bought them from the flower stand across the street.

Even though the right thing to do was clear, I didn't know whether I wanted to give him a chance. "What is there to talk about?"

"I don't want us to end this way."

I huffed. "Where'd you see that, carved in the sidewalk outside?"

"Come on," He glanced behind him when a group of people passed in the hall. "Give me a break, here."

"You aren't good for me." I told him. "I'm sick of dealing with you."

He poked his hand through the opening just before I wanted to close it. I wondered what was stopping me from slamming his fingers. "I know I need help."

"You think?" I shoved his hand away.

"Olivia, I need your help." He said. "I don't want to hurt you anymore, and I never wanted to hurt you to begin with. I promise I'll change if you give me the chance."

I cursed myself for falling for him in the first place. I was vulnerable - I still was - and he literally showed up on my doorstep with a friendly smile and a shoulder to cry on. It didn't help that he was the good-looking co-worker of my deceased brother.

I figured if Greg found something good in Chase, he must be worth the struggle and frustration.

I had to give in before I broke down again. "I don't have any patience with you anymore."

"You won't need it." He insisted.

After another moment of contemplation, my good soul overthrew my senses and I unlatched the chain. I pulled open the door and there he stood, disheveled and presenting the perfect bouquet of flowers, like the fine gentleman I knew he was not.

When I continued staring, he set the flowers on a desk next to the door. He proceeded to confidently step up to me and pull my chin into a kiss. I didn't respond at first, but he was such a good kisser that I couldn't help but kiss him back. It was also in my favor that he'd found some breath mints beforehand.

I half smiled after he pulled away because I didn't know what the hell was right or wrong anymore. "These are pretty." I said, picking up the lovely selection of flowers to place them in a vase.

"Your favorite." He said proudly, and he was right. It was a bit surprising that he was right.

I opened a cabinet and started to fill a vase my mother bought me when I moved in. It got me thinking about her, and Dad as well. I hadn't spoken to either of them since...

"What's this?" Chase was pinching a bunch of red fabric with a smirk on his lips.

I assumed it was a dish cloth or something until he spread it out in the air. "Oh, that's...that's from, uh..." How do you explain the reason why Spiderman's mask is in your kitchen?

"This thing is authentic." He gawked at the realistic feel to it, because it was the real damn thing! "Is it yours?"

"No, a boy on the seventh floor." I spluttered. "He...I was babysitting him yesterday. He left it here." I was going to let Peter hear it later. How does Spiderman forget his mask?

Chase discovered the opening to the mask and started to spread it over his head.

"No!" I shrieked, snatching the mask from him.

Chase held up his hands innocently. "What's the big deal? It's a toy."

"I don't want you to tear it." I moved the mask to a safe place. "It's very important to him." I emphasized my point, humoring myself a little.

Chase rolled his eyes. "There's a problem if the kid cares so much for a loser in spandex."

I rolled my eyes right back. I'd never met a single police officer that liked the superhero, let alone idolized him. It was a pride thing, because the NYPD was supposed to be the greatest force in the city. Greg was never too fond of him, either.

I was always neutral, but that had the potential to change.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Behind the Mask**_

_SIX: Not Your Fault_

* * *

.:::.

It was nice to sit through Photography with a freshness I didn't have before with the hangover. The class was still a bit boring, especially since the lecture was on proper lighting. It was something I subconsciously looked for when snapping photos. I didn't need to learn about it all over again. I decided to distract myself with the bounciness of our instructor's hair every time she flicked her head.

Peter still came in late. This time, he caught my eyes and smiled at me with a raise of his eyebrows. Someone in front of me turned to find the receiving end of that smile, so I kept my head low. I raised it again after a second or two, finding a new distraction in Peter. He set his backpack down on the floor beside his chair and shrugged off his coat. I watched his shoulder blades roll in the process beneath his t-shirt. I found it funny how clueless everyone was, unknowingly sitting in the same room as New York's favorite hero.

It was enough to boggle me for the rest of class. At ten, I slowly gathered my things on purpose, waiting to see if Peter looked back at me again. I dropped my notebook off of the desk, and noticed his shoes when I stood back up.

"Well?" He asked expectantly.

My stomach rolled. "What?"

"Did you sell it online?" He was joking with me, but I was slightly confused. "The mask." He muttered, close to my ear.

"Oh!" I chuckled nervously. "No, I - it's on my kitchen counter."

Peter nodded. "Right. How's your hand?"

I pulled my sleeve over the pinkness. "Fine, thanks."

He shifted his head to the side, finding no one left in the classroom. "I have a backup mask, but I need the real one back."

"Okay." I said right away. "Do you want to stop by on the way home?"

"The sooner, the better."

On the way out of the building, we walked past a convenience stand. Each of the bold newspaper headlines sported Spiderman's name, but not in a good context. I slowed my walk to read some of them.

Peter stopped as well, snickering at the words. "People believe anything."

The papers claimed that Spiderman's "haters" were climbing in numbers, and plotting revenge. "You're not concerned?"

"No." His answer was so certain that it was hard to argue it. "Why should it matter whether people like me or not?"

We continued walking before I spoke again. "I guess you're right, but those people are dangerous. They want you dead." They were all already criminals, angry with Spidey for getting in their way. I didn't think they would miss the chance at ending him.

He shrugged again, completely at ease. I guessed if it didn't bother him, it shouldn't bother me.

Peter coming to my apartment with me wouldn't have been a problem if Chase wasn't in my kitchen, making himself a sandwich.

I faltered my step when I walked inside, but remembered to act natural. "Hey, what are you doing here?"

Chase paused in the middle of smearing mustard on his sandwich with a butter knife. His eyes were focused on Peter, behind me. "I have a shorter lunch break today." He dropped his knife to kiss me on the forehead. "Who's your friend?"

I spun and found Peter still idling in the doorway. He half smiled and took some cautious steps forward, offering his hand to Chase. "Peter Parker." He said evenly. I imagined he was getting a kick out of Chase being a cop.

Chase's navy blue police uniform always made his shoulders look broader and his arms look thicker. I noticed the tighter grip on Peter's hand, and prayed Chase wouldn't try and start anything.

"He's just here to pick something up." I snaked around Chase to snatch the mask, and tossed it to Peter.

Chase huffed. "Babysitting the kid on the seventh floor, huh?"

I had forgotten about that spur of the moment excuse. "Yeah..." I hurried back over to Peter and pressed his shoulders to get him moving. "I'll see you later, Peter."

"Now, where you running off to?" Chase took an oversized bite of his lunch. "Maybe he wants a sandwich."

I was ready to strangle Chase. He knew this was getting on my nerves. Peter got this creative look in his eye, and it worried me a little more than Chase did.

"Actually, I was going to ask if you wanted to grab some coffee or something? Down the street." Peter completely ignored Chase's presence, focusing on me in a way that gathered all of my attention.

"She drinks tea." Chase snorted, seeing Peter's attempt of asking me out as pathetic.

I didn't know what came over me. "Sure." I agreed, regardless of my distaste for coffee. Neither of them expected me to answer that way.

"Okay," Peter said warily. He started backing up towards the open doorway.

I turned to shoot Chase a cheeky smile and waved goodbye. He still shook his head with a doubtful grin. "You kids have fun."

I slipped out of the apartment and closed the door, releasing an annoyed groan. "I literally can't stand him."

"He's the drunken cop?" Peter guessed correctly.

"Yes, and I don't have enough guts to drop him." I walked toward the elevators.

"Uh, wait." Peter waited for me to stop before he caught up. "I really can't go out for coffee right now. I have some other work to do."

What other kind of work was he talking about? Why did it disappoint me so much? "Oh."

"But you can come back to my apartment with me." He offered quickly. "If you want."

For some reason, the idea thrilled me. Anything but sitting with Chase while he ate his lunch. "Of course! I mean, that sounds nice."

. . . . . . . .

"Wow."

Peter looked over at me, his glasses dropping from the bridge of his nose. "What?"

I could see his written work from where I was seated, and there was no doubt in my mind this guy was a genius. "Um...nothing. I was just talking to myself."

Peter laughed once and focused back on his work. "Okay, then."

Great. Now he thought I has some sort of social disorder. I zipped my mouth shut and continued to act as a fly on the wall. It was changing the impression I'd had on him, seeing the stacks of chemistry books and equations - all of the things I was never good at doing. He was a hero as well as a genius?

"Those glasses suit you." I couldn't control the comment, it just came out.

"Thanks." He said absently.

I fidgeted in my seat. "Am I bothering you? I really shouldn't -"

"You're fine." He said. "You're not bothering me. I can multitask."

"You swear?"

"I swear."

I didn't believe him, but I didn't want to leave, either. I made more of an effort to stay quiet, drawing circles on my knees to distract myself.

Peter glanced over his shoulder at me for a short second, as if he was checking that I was still there. "So, you're a writer?"

I peeked back up at him curiously. "How did you know?"

"Well, you're staring at that Calculus book like you don't speak English, and usually if you don't like math and science, you turn towards the opposite." He let me fill in the blanks. "Am I right?"

I was impressed, because he never drew his eyes away from focus. "I'm trying to be a writer. I don't have a job yet." I noticed the mask, perched next to him in the mess of schoolwork. "Peter?"

"Hmm?"

"Does anyone else know about you?"

His pencil paused briefly, and he tapped the eraser end on the desk before he continued writing again.

I read his body language clearly. "No? No one else knows?"

"It's not a big deal." He said quietly.

"It's not a big deal? Peter, you've never told anyone else? Why would you tell me?"

"For the record, I didn't tell you. You figured it out yourself after I showed you."

"Well, whatever. What about your parents?"

His pencil stopped moving completely. He set it down, but refused to turn and face me. "I was raised by my aunt and uncle."

"And you never -"

"No, I didn't." His answer was forceful, and it told me to back off. "It's not something that just comes up."

I bit my tongue hard. No more talking.

Peter eventually spun his chair and held his glasses in his hands. He played with them as a nervous tick. "You asked me before why I decided to get you out of that elevator?"

I chewed on my bottom lip, guilty for making him give me answers that I had no right to hear. I nodded anyway.

"You were right, I could have done nothing. I could have kept my secret from you, but I saved you because you said your brother was shot. You were running out of time to say goodbye." He closed up his notebook and pushed it to the side, focusing his attention on a photo tucked inside a drawer.

It was of an older couple, a man and woman I assumed to be his aunt and uncle. "My uncle Ben was killed by a thief, a man I could have stopped before he got a chance to..." He trailed off, rubbing his knuckle into his eye. He dropped his hand just as fast. "I didn't want to see that happen to someone else, especially when I could do something about it."

My throat tightened in my neck. I tried to swallow the lump, but it didn't go down. "I'm sorry."

Peter stood up from his seat and walked over to the balcony doors. "It's not your fault."

"It's not yours, either." I followed him, my knees wobbly and weak; this was a sensation I was slowly getting used to. I pulled the plastic cover off of my cell phone and slipped out the photo of Greg, offering it up for him to see. "None of it is our fault."

Peter looked at my photo as he dropped his head to lean against the glass. He handed it back to me and shook his head. "If I was paying attention, maybe I could have done something to help your brother. I could have been there, I could have followed the -"

"Stop it." I reached for one of his hands at his side and squeezed it in my own. "It's not your fault, remember? I could say the same thing, but we're only human - well, mostly human. I don't expect you to feel guilty. There's only so much we can do before things spin out of our control. It isn't our fault."

He watched me intently, like he was waiting for something to become clear on my face. I dropped my eyes self-consciously, but he lifted my chin again with the light touch of his fingers. He brushed his thumb over my cheek just as softly.

I knew what was coming, and I had to say something before it happened. "Don't blame yourself like that, okay?" I whispered.

His hand lingered for a while, but eventually dropped away. "Okay."

That was my slap in the face. I needed Chase gone for good.

I returned to my apartment, catching Chase just before he walked out the door to resume his work day. "Hey, we need to -" He cut me off before I could finish.

"I gotta run now, babe. I'm already late." He kissed my lips and gathered his things on the counter. "Your parents called. I told them we would come over for dinner tonight."

I did a double take. "What?"

He shrugged in the innocent way that drove me crazy. "They invited us, what was I supposed to say? I'll see you later." He kissed my cheek once more before he slammed the door in my face.

What the hell.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Behind the Mask**_

_SEVEN: No Worries_

* * *

.:::.

Chase draped his arm over my shoulders after we got out of his police cruiser. We walked down the block to my parent's place. "So your dad is a retired officer?"

"Yes, so the two of you can have a dandy old time chatting about your glory days, okay?"

Chase snickered at my attitude. "Why are you so wound up? It's just your parents."

I shrugged his arm off of me. "You don't get it. I haven't spoken to them since that night, and you didn't give me any time to prepare myself for-"

"Liv, relax." He pulled me to the side just before the steps. "Everything will be fine."

I rolled my tongue over my teeth, wondering what it was that made me so nervous about facing them. I thought it might have been Chase, and having to introduce him to them, but that didn't worry me at all.

He caught me off guard when he kissed me. It was the kind of kiss that clouded my judgement and helped me forget about everything else. Damn him for being such a good kisser.

I took a deep breath before I rang the doorbell. Mom opened the door and cracked one of her biggest smiles. She stared at me for a few seconds. "Hi, sweetie."

The moment I saw that smile I gave in and buried myself deep in her chest. She hugged me tight, and I breathed in the lovely scent of her perfume. I didn't know why I was dreading seeing her again.

I remembered Chase and leaned out of the hug. "Oh, this is -"

"Chase, right? I spoke with him on the phone." She offered her hand to him in a greeting.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. O'Neil." He didn't hesitate in kissing her cheek. Mom blushed and giggled like a school girl, and I mentally slapped myself in the head.

"Where's Dad?" I asked, once we were inside. It was the same house Greg and I grew up in, and it hadn't changed a bit since we both moved out.

"Take a guess." Mom pointed with her eyes to the kitchen, where Dad was most likely making his special meatballs. "Can I get you something to drink, Chase? Soda, homemade lemonade, maybe a beer?"

"Uh..." He glanced at me and saw the you-better-watch-yourself look on my face. "I'll have a Coke, please."

I smirked, actually proud of him for a change. "Me too, Mom." I skipped into the kitchen with her to find Dad.

His eyes crinkled with crow's feet. "Oh, I'm sorry, do I know you?"

I half rolled my eyes. "No, I just smelled the food and decided to stop by."

Dad wiped his hands on a towel and walked up to me with that stupid chef's apron Greg and I got him for Father's Day. "Well, my name is Dad."

I hugged him around his belly and chuckled to myself. "I love you."

"Love you too, kid. Took you long enough to get here. I'm hungry, let's eat."

Mom had the table set the same way she did when we were kids, including a fresh bunch of sunflowers as the centerpiece. Those were always her favorite. Mom was the one to inform dad of Chase's occupation, and the two of them were lost in NYPD land in less than a minute.

"He's such a nice guy." Mom gushed to me in a low voice. "Where on Earth did you find him?"

I twisted my spaghetti around my fork. "He was one of the officers that came to my apartment..."

She looked up at Chase and nodded. "I see."

I watched how animated my father was with Chase, and it reminded me of the way he and Greg would go on and on about the nonsense people go through to get arrested these days. I also noticed Chase's glass of Coke - well, actually his third glass of Coke. When he wasn't drunk or pressured to drink, he was great, and funny, and kind. A good guy, even. That's what I must have seen in him when we met.

The realization only made my head start throbbing. After dinner, Dad and Chase stayed seated at the table as Mom and I cleaned up. They talked for over an hour about things I didn't understand. At one point, I heard Dad's special laugh, and my heart melted. He only ever laughed that way when he was having the best time of his life, and I hadn't heard it since Greg died.

Why was this happening to me?

Mom brought me a cup of tea and joined me on the sofa. The news on TV acted as background noise, along with Chase and Dad's heated conversation about the K-9 unit.

"What's wrong?"

I drew my eyes up to Mom. "Huh?"

"You look like something's bothering you." She pulled a blanket from behind the sofa and covered us both with it.

I wasn't sure what to say, so I used the breaking news feed flashing across the TV screen as a distraction. Mom increased the volume enough to hear over the loud mouths in the kitchen.

_...The City Bank on 23rd street is currently being held up by a masked clan of criminals. Chopper 9 is overhead, viewing the scene as the authorities are arriving on location. Witnesses say that there are hostages inside, and none have been released. The suspects and hostages have been inside the bank for a over twenty minutes. We will keep you updated on this incident as we receive more information..._

"Wow," Chase snapped his work phone off of his hip. "They never called me in."

"That's what happens when you're off duty." Dad teases. "Miss out on all the fun."

_...word that the suspects are not asking for money, but for a private meeting with New York's own Spiderman..._

"What?" I asked frantically. "Did you hear that? What did she say?"

Mom shushed me.

_...Again, we've just been informed that the suspects refuse to release any hostages unless Spiderman makes an appearance. No word yet on the motive here, but police are questioning whether the suspects are acting on their hatred for the masked hero..._

I stood up from the sofa, my limbs rigid in complete panic. "Oh, my god!"

"Ridiculous." Mom said. "Those poor people are being held against their will for some kind of silly revenge stunt."

Chase snickered. "The Spider finally gets to meet with some of his real enemies."

No one was as concerned as I was. "He can't go! He can't do it, they'll kill him!"

"It's alright, babe." Chase stretched in his chair. "We'll handle it before he even gets there, as usual."

I needed an excuse, anything I could come up with. "Chase, I think it's time we get going. When's the last time you fed Onyx?"

"She's staying at the station for training this week, remember?"

I needed something else. "Yeah, I remember. I really need to get home, though. I have to get up early tomorrow for my shift at Toy's 'R Us."

Chase sighed dramatically and rose from his chair. "Alright, alright. Thank you very much for having us."

My parents gave him all their love, but spared some for me as well. It took much longer than necessary. I was speed walking back to the cruiser. Chase had to jog to catch up.

"See? It wasn't that bad. Your parents are great."

"Yeah, I know." I hurried around to the passenger side and got in. Chase was moving at the pace of a grandfather snail.

"Liv, you're shaking." He covered my hand with his, his brain still far away from the ignition.

"I'm fine. I just want to get home."

Chase wasn't convinced, but got us driving anyway. I nearly jumped out before he could park again. He kept having to adjust his walking speed as I raced to the elevators. "What's your rush?"

"I don't feel well. My headache is bothering me." I kept my head low when I stepped in the elevator.

Chase followed behind and pressed the button for the fifth floor. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine!" I snapped at him.

Someone stuck their foot in the doors just before they closed. I was ready to shoot the person a death glare for slowing me down, but I couldn't believe who it was.

Peter's eyes met mine instantly. "Hey."

I just stared at him in complete bewilderment.

He wrinkled his brow at my weirdness and stepped inside, hitting the seventh floor button. "You okay?"

I swallowed harshly and nodded my head. I didn't notice Chase was holding my hand until the elevator started moving. Peter stood on the farther side, trying not to invade my space.

I snuck my eyes up his arm and to the neck of his shirt. I could just barely see the hem of the spider suit sticking out the top, but it was only because I knew it was there. Could he have really handled that mess already, and come out without a scratch?

We stopped on the fifth floor, and I let Chase go ahead of me. I jerked my head back to give Peter a what-the-hell look. He just smiled at me, and the doors closed over him.

I was completely distracted back in my apartment. I sat alone on my bed, picking at my nail polish and trying to figure out what was going on.

Chase eventually kneeled by the edge of the bed and locked his fingers in my hair.

"I don't know what's bugging you," He leaned forward to press his lips to my jaw line. "But whatever it is, I'll make it go away."

I shivered as his lips trailed down my neck, kissing the entire length of it. I couldn't decide if it was a good shiver or a bad one. He didn't give me a chance to figure it out, because he continued on and traced my collarbone.

I stopped him and lifted his face to kiss my lips again so I had time to think. He guided my body down on the bed, hovering over me while we kissed. I felt his knee nudge my legs apart, and that was when I couldn't take it anymore.

"Coffee." I breathed, pushing his shoulders away. "I don't have any coffee for tomorrow morning."

Chase looked confused. "You don't drink coffee?"

"Yes, but you do, and I know you like it, and you have to have it, so I need to go get coffee now." I slipped out from that dangerous contraption and pulled on my shoes.

"But, Liv, it's almost ten o'clock. I don't need it. " Chase was left lying in bed.

"I'll just run to the store down the street. I'll be back in ten minutes." I didn't give him a chance to complain before I was gone.

I knocked on the door to Peter's apartment, flustered and exhausted and in need of answers. He opened the door just as fast, wearing only a pair of sweatpants.

He rubbed a towel over his hair, fresh from the shower. "Hi."

As if I wasn't flustered enough. "Hi? That's all you have to say?"

He leaned against the door frame with a comical smirk. "You were worried about me, weren't you?"

I didn't know how to respond to that. "What the hell happened?"

He looked down at the ground and laughed a little. "It was funny, actually. They were all wearing cheap Spiderman masks, like they were mocking me."

"Peter, it's not funny! They could have killed you!"

"But they didn't." He told me. "Everybody's safe, no worries."

I saw the playful look in his eyes and the relaxed frame of his body. He wasn't fazed a bit, and it just blew my mind. "You're..."

He waited smugly for me to finish my thought.

I rubbed my forehead with my hand, the exhaustion catching up to me. "Never mind."

Peter tilted his head curiously, pointing to something on my neck. "What's that?"

I touched my fingers to my skin. "What's what?"

"You have a little, uh," He pointed to his own neck. "It's red." He decided.

My stomach literally flipped upside down twice and then exploded. I laughed with meaningless he-he's. Dammit, Chase!

Peter's smile softened and he started to close his door over. "Goodnight, Olivia."

"Wait!" I held the door open with a guilty look on my face. "Do you have any coffee that I can borrow?"


	8. Chapter 8

_**Behind the Mask**_

_EIGHT: Caught in His Own Web_

_.:::._

_Hi readers! This one is kind of long, but I didn't want to break it up because it's really important. Please let me know what you think! Leave me a review, I'll be super happy :) Thanks for reading!_

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.:::.

I caught myself nodding off again before slicing open my last box of toys. I hadn't slept well the night before, my mind was restless. Chase's snoring wasn't exactly a lullaby. I was arguing with myself, trying to justify a reason for worrying so much about Peter when I never worried about Spiderman before. It wasn't my place to get involved, yet I could barely stand to stay away.

I peeled back the flaps on the box and had to do a double take when it was loaded with Spiderman action figures. My coworker Tara gave me a strange look when I started giggling to myself.

I shrugged. "Look, he has a real mask." I touched the fabric over the action figure's face.

Tara walked over, pinched the fabric, and lifted it up. "So handsome." She muttered in her sarcastic way. The face was just a generic man, nothing like Peter.

"This doesn't even look like him." I said, as if it were despicable for the face to be unimportant to the toy manufacturer.

"How would you know?" She questioned, making me bite my tongue. "Maybe the toy company has seen him."

"Maybe." I agreed quickly. I knew I had to be more careful. I could never forgive myself if I let his identity slip out.

In the boys' department, I completed stacking a row and a half of action figures before I could hear the store manager's voice approaching from a few aisles down. Daniel was in his mid thirties, but he had the personality of a ten-year-old boy. It explained why he found such passionate work in Toys 'R Us.

"...in case he needs to make a quick getaway, you know? Olivia!" Daniel exclaimed. My name frightened me.

I didn't look over, afraid I did something wrong. "Yes?"

"Guess who this is?" He talked to me like I was a customer he was trying to impress.

I force my eyes to the end of the aisle. "Peter Parker." I said simply, with a shake of my head and a smirk that didn't seem to go away.

Peter looked amused as well. "She's a good friend." He said politely.

"You know him?" Daniel was completely astonished. "This is the man that directly interacts with Spiderman on a daily basis!"

"Oh, really?" I pretended to be surprised. "You never told me that." I was still a bit thrown off by the 'good friend' line. He considered me his good friend after knowing me for less than a week?

Daniel didn't give Peter a chance to respond. "He's here to relay some important information about the 23rd to Spidey."

"What's on the 23rd?"

"It's our birthday!" Daniel exclaimed, like the store's opening date was the most obvious thing in the world. "Spiderman is making a special appearance, and participating in a Q&A."

"Q&A?" I asked again.

"Jeez, Olivia, you're supposed to be on top of this." Daniel whispered to me. "You volunteered for it last month."

It all came back to me then. I signed up about a week before Greg died. lt hadn't been on my mind recently. "Oh, right. I remember." I lied.

Another employee jumped into the picture. "Dan, the T-Rex won't power on."

Daniel huffed. "Excuse me one second. What do you mean it won't power on? It's a customer favorite!" He marched away in a fit.

That left Peter and I alone again.

"Do you stalk my life?" I asked Peter once Daniel was occupied.

"Maybe you're stalking mine."

"What are you doing? How does he know you 'interact with Spiderman on a daily basis'?" I continued stocking the shelves, but my rows became messier.

Peter slowly started scooting his way towards me. "Who is the only person you know of that takes the pictures of Spiderman and sells them to the paper?"

I didn't answer the hypothetical question. "So what, everybody thinks you're your own personal assistant?"

"Yeah, but they don't know I'm me." He started to correct my sloppy stacking.

"So that's why you're here?"

"Yeah, but why are you here?"

"I work here." I said firmly. "I told you that."

"I thought you were kidding." He chuckled. I rolled my eyes. "When's your shift over?"

My stomach did some excited twists and turns. I discouraged them by clearing my throat. "When the doors open."

"Would you mind coming somewhere with me when you're done?" The vague request along with his mischievous expression intrigued me.

"Where?" I asked with a small voice.

"It's a surprise." His smile was making me melt, but I froze up again when I remembered Chase. Peter read it the wrong way. "Don't worry, you'll just have to trust me."

I slowly picked up the empty toy box. "I don't know..."

"Oh, come on." He shoved my arm playfully. "Don't you trust me?"

Of course I trusted him. I didn't doubt that. "It isn't dangerous, is it?"

"No. Well - no, it's not physically dangerous."

I laughed, partly at him and partly at myself for trusting him so deeply. "Okay, fine. Can you wait ten minutes?"

"Absolutely."

Daniel reappeared and directed Peter to another location in the store. After they both turned the corner I looked back at my zig-zagged stacking skills and decided they would have to do.

. . . . . . . .

I hesitated at the top of the concrete staircase that led underground, but I forced myself to follow Peter down it.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of subways, too?" Peter paused, waiting for me to catch up to his step.

"I'm not afraid." My squeaky voice betrayed me. "Subways just make me nervous, that's all." We reached the bottom of the stairs and I accidentally brushed elbows with a few suspicious characters. My instincts persuaded me to lean closer to Peter.

I felt his arm reach around my shoulder and rub it to comfort me. His laughter was soft in my ear. "I guess you never know what you'll find down here."

I swallowed. "You'd think living in the city my whole life would actually mean something." We shuffled on to the open car and decided to stand. "Why won't you tell me where we're going?"

The subway jerked forward and started moving quickly. Peter closed his hand around the silver railing next to mine. "That's not how surprises work."

"What if I don't like surprises?"

"You'll like this one."

I pursed my lips, watching our reflection in the dark windows. "If I guess it right, will you tell me?"

"Probably not."

I chewed my lip, a natural anxiety starting to sink in.

"We don't have much patience, do we?"

"No." I whined.

It wasn't any use trying to get it out of him. The subway car stopped briefly to allow more passengers on. One man with a crazy look in his eye pointed at the front page of his newspaper and addressed all of us on board. "Ya see dis? Dis is the government tryna trick us all inta believin we not in any danger!"

I frowned at the large colored photo of Spiderman and the headline above it: CAUGHT IN HIS OWN WEB.

"Damn bug ain't caught! He still plannin on lettin us citizens suffer fer his own life! He don't care about us no more!"

Not many people were listening to his nonsense. Not until Peter spoke up. "Maybe he's still figuring things out. I'm sure he's trying to protect you...us."

The man laughed, airy and loudly. "Protect us? Dey got you fooled, boy! The bug ain't no hero! Shoulda seen that years ago."

The new and curious pairs of eyes glanced back at Peter to see if he had some sort of rebuttal. "I suppose you're entitled to your opinion."

"Hell yes I am! Damn bug gonna get squashed by that new gang dey got runnin round anyway."

"What gang?" Peter and I asked at the same time. I peeked at him, but he was focused on this opinionated man of many words.

"Boys wearin dem bug masks and settin traps fer the bug to crawl right up in. Same boys did that bank hold up the other day."

"I thought they were all arrested?" Peter questioned.

The man formed this evil and toothless grin I was sure would haunt my nightmares. "Dey ain't the only ones, boy. Dey all over the city."

I turned my back to the man, facing the window to hide the horror on my face. I was certain Peter didn't know there were that many people plotting against him.

"We'll get off at the next stop." He muttered to me. I only nodded.

We didn't talk about it again until we hit fresh air - well, until we hit the sidewalk. "Did you know about that? The gang he was talking about?"

He was walking faster than before. "I'm not surprised by it."

"Well what are you going to do?" I had to skip a little to catch up.

"There really isn't anything I can do."

"Yes there is. There has to be."

He stopped abruptly. "Oh? Like what?" I didn't sense the irritation in his voice a moment before, but I did now.

I tried not to cower, but I couldn't think of anything to say. Nothing that would mean something to him.

Peter shook his head. "Never mind, I'm sorry. Come on, let's go inside."

I didn't realize we'd reached our destination. "The Daily Bugle?"

Peter held the door open for me, waiting for me to walk through. "You said you wanted to be a writer. I got you a job interview."

I was both physically and mentally stunned. "You what?"

Peter gestured with his hand for me to walk through the open doorway again.

"Peter, I'm not ready for a job interview! Look at me!" I held my arms out for extra emphasis.

He nodded once. "You look great. It'll only take a few minutes, anyway. Come on."

I scoffed, looking down at my too-casual Rangers sweatshirt and jeans. "You must be joking!"

Peter dropped his head back and looked skyward before checking a watch on his wrist that wasn't there. "I'm not joking, Olivia! We're already late, so hurry up!"

"But-"

"Come on!"

I pouted, but I dragged my feet inside. It was just how I'd pictured it, the desks lined up in rows and papers littered across every surface. Computer screens held lines and lines of typed paragraphs and frames held headlines on the walls.

I whispered it to myself this time. "You must be joking."

Peter insisted I walk forward, his hands guiding my shoulders to the office in the back corner. He gave me a pep talk on the way. "Jameson can be...intense, but just be yourself. I'll make sure you get the job."

The butterflies in my stomach were out of control. "Peter..."

"You'll thank me later." He stepped in front of me to enter the office. "Good afternoon, Mr. Jameson."

The man at the desk slapped down his cigar. "Parker! You're late."

"The subway was crowded today, but -"

"What is it? New photos? Got one from the bank hold up?"

Peter pulled an envelope from his pocket. "Not exactly, but -"

"I don't pay you for this crap, Parker. Give it here." The man snatched the envelope from Peter and shuffled through the photos inside. "Fine for now, but get me those damn pictures and get out before you're fired."

I was shocked, but Peter didn't seem fazed by the threat."Mr. Jameson,"

"What the hell do you want? I don't have all day." He picked up his cigar again.

"This is my friend Olivia O'Neill, and she really needs a job in -"

"A job?" Mr. Jameson looked right at me, his mustache hiding his expression. "What the hell are you? Photographer? Journalist?"

"Um,"

He waved his hand at me. "Doesn't matter what you are. There aren't any openings."

It shouldn't have surprised me. It was rare to walk in to an unplanned and unexpected interview and walk out with a job. I shouldn't have been so disappointed.

"She knows Spiderman better than I do." Peter mentioned. "Anything she has to say will be a priceless column in the paper each week."

I wasn't expecting him to bring Spiderman into it. "Oh, no I -"

"That's exactly what we need!" Jameson looked me over again, his eyes tightening. "Will you knock Spidey out of the sky? Peel back the mask, show the city what's really slinging webs on our streets?"

"Of course she will." Peter grinned at me.

Was he serious? "I-I guess so."

Jameson nodded. "Congratulations, you're hired. Bring me a column by the end of the week. I'm late for my lunch break."

Peter bumped my arm when I was non-responsive. "Of course, the end of the week. Thank you so much!"

"Whatever. Parker, get me those pictures for the front page."

"I'll do the best I can, Mr. Jameson. Thank you."

"Sure, whatever. Now get the hell out so I can eat."

As soon as we stepped back onto the street, I allowed myself to jump up and down in joy. "I have a real job!"

Peter stood with his hands folded behind his back. He raised his eyebrows at me expectantly.

I practically leaped into his arms. "Oh, thank you! Thank you thank you thank you! I have to go home and start writing! It's already Wednesday, which means the end of the week is in two days. Two days, Peter! That's only 48 hours...how am I going to write a column in 48 hours?"

He dropped his hands to my waist and held me still. "What did I tell you about remembering to breathe?"

I remembered, taking in short little breaths at a time. "Why did you tell him I would write about Spiderman? I can't do that!"

"Of course you can. You can ask me anything you want."

"You can't release that kind of information to the paper! You heard the man on the subway."

"I know, but I think you'll be able to help me. There are still a lot of people out there that could use some convincing on my part. Maybe you can talk some sense into them."

There was a sudden weight on my shoulders that I wasn't prepared to bear. "So the only reason you got me this job was to help clear your name to the public?"

"No." He looked too guilty to satisfy me. "Not when you put it that way."

My fingers clenched into fists, gathering small bunches of Peter's jacket inside them. I hadn't noticed how close we were standing, almost embracing right there on the street. His fingers responded in the same way around my waist.

I slipped out of his hold, not because I wanted to but because I had to. Accepting this job meant I was welding a connection between the two of us that would be permanent in the public eye. If I accepted, there would be nowhere to hide if things got worse. My name would be caught in his web forever, the ink on the page to prove it.

"I know that's a lot to ask," Peter didn't try to reach back for me. "But if anybody is going to help me, it has to be you."

"Why?" I sounded defensive, not how I'd planned. "Because an elevator trapped us together while my brother was dying?"

His head shook as he stared down at his feet. "I haven't known you for very long, but I know that you care. I can see you won't run away from this because that's not the kind of person you are. You're brave, maybe the bravest person I've ever met, and I trust you."

I gulped, humbled by this person he spoke of, because it sure wasn't me. "What if I make it worse? What if everything backfires and the entire city hates you because of me?"

He shrugged like the outcome didn't really matter. "Would you hate me?"

I didn't have to think about it. "No."

"Then I won't have to worry about that."

I shouldn't have expected anything less. Even if all of New York hated him, it would always be all of New York minus one.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Behind the Mask**_

_NINE: Amazing_

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_.:::._

I was already smiling when I unlocked my door, but Chase's dog Onyx made the smile widen with her greeting.

"Hi, girl." I scratched at her ears, briefly forgetting that I wasn't supposed to do that; she was still in training. "Oh, I'm sorry."

Chase shook his head at me from his place on the sofa. "Doesn't matter. The damn dog isn't cut out to be a cop anyway."

I hung up my jacket and set down my keys. "She isn't training well?"

"She wants to play all the time. She gets distracted too easily. She's not aggressive." He listed off her faults. "It'll take too much time to train her properly."

I frowned down at the pup, her sparkly brown eyes asking for another pat on the head. "You're giving up on her?"

"We can't waste our time on a lost cause."

My heart broke for the poor thing. I dropped to my knees and pet her again. "It's okay, baby. You're still a good girl."

Chase grunted.

"What's the matter with you?" I checked the score of the Rangers game on TV. They were winning, so it wasn't the game that was making him grumpy.

"We were supposed to meet for lunch today." He said flatly.

I bit my lip, feeling incredibly guilty. "I'm so sorry. Something came up, and I -"

"You know, I'm really trying to work with you here, Liv. You could have called or something."

I sat next to him on the sofa, but at the farthest end away from him. "I know, and I should have called. I'm sorry."

He switched the beer in his right hand to his left. It was the first time I noticed he was drinking it. "So where were you?"

I figured I might as well be honest and lie some other time when it was necessary. "Peter got me a job interview for the Daily Bugle. I have to write a column by Friday."

I half expected a congratulations or a pat on the back, but then I remembered it was Chase. "Why are you hanging around with him so much lately?"

I shrugged as innocently as I could . "We're in the same photography class, and he knew I was looking for a job. It was nice of him to do that for me."

Chase grunted again.

I sat silently with Onyx's head in my lap and watched the game without really watching it. I was thinking up questions to ask Peter about Spiderman. It was a priceless opportunity that I couldn't pass up without being thorough.

Chase was passed out the next time I looked over at him. This was another opportunity that could not be missed. I tiptoed out into the hall and closed the door quietly behind me.

. . . . . . . .

I paused before writing down another word in my notebook. "Answer truthfully, please."

"I am being truthful." Peter insisted, though that smirk told me otherwise.

"Everybody in the city is going to read this, Peter. Stop being silly."

"Olivia, it is the honest truth." He was tinkering with his police scanner, a mix of static and tones escaping the speaker before it went silent. "What's wrong with this thing?"

I poked the side of my face with the end of my pen. "So you're telling me that you got your superpowers after being bitten by a radioactive spider?"

He nodded. "Exactly right."

I shook my head to myself and wrote it down anyway.

"Why is that so hard to believe?"

"Where the hell do you come across a radioactive spider in the first place?"

"In a radioactive lab." He answered simply, abandoning the scanner and sitting in the wooden chair across from me.

"Did it hurt?"

"Not really. I didn't even notice until the next morning. That was when all of my powers started surfacing."

I still wasn't buying it, but I decided to move on. "What kind of powers did you see first?"

I was looking down at my notebook and scribbling down his last answer when my pen disappeared from my hand. Peter sucked up his web and twirled the pen in his fingers.

"Besides that one." I clarified.

"Well, I was pretty strong and I was sticking to stuff like static cling. I just saw the world differently. Everything was clearer, and much more fascinating." He found entertainment in rolling the pen through his fingers.

I followed the pen with my eyes. "So what made you decide to fight crime with your new abilities?"

"Same answer as anybody. I had a lot of time on my hands. I decided to use it for good instead of evil."

I shifted in my seat. "Can I have my pen back?"

That smirk returned, and he shook his head. "This is boring."

"Fine, we'll take a break." I sat back in my chair and dropped my notebook on the floor beside me. "I probably have enough to write for Friday, anyway."

"Make sure you make me sound amazing."

"Well you are the Amazing Spiderman." I reminded him. When I stretched out my shoulders, I discovered the mask resting on the end table beside me.

I looked to Peter for permission. "Can I see?"

"It's nothing special." He said, though I completely disagreed.

I felt the fabric between my fingers and was surprised at how light it was compared to how thick and heavy it appeared. I ran my fingers over the ridges in the webbed streaks of black on the red fabric beneath.

I felt my cheeks pinch red a little. "Can I...try it on?"

I decided that his smile would someday kill me."Knock yourself out."

I searched for the opening, my fingers trembling in anticipation. I held it open and spread it over my head.

The mask clung to my features so closely without being tight. It wasn't necessarily comfortable. I couldn't see anything and I could barely breathe. It didn't seem to fit as fluidly as it fit Peter.

"How do you even breathe in this thing?" I asked, though my voice wasn't as clear as Peter's when he wore it.

I heard the suppressed chuckle in his voice. "You put it on backwards. Hold on," I felt his hands readjusting the mask and before I knew it I could see, breathe, and speak just as naturally as I could without it.

"Wow!" I gasped, feeling my nose through the mask. "It's like a second skin!"

"Cool, huh?"

"It's _so_ cool! Amazing!" I was fascinated by everything about it. Not just it, but also Peter Parker himself. Everything about him was truly amazing, but not for the reasons everyone thought. The man behind the mask was just as incredible as the one wearing it. It made me feel special to know I was the only one who could see that.

I felt at my neck for the edges of the mask to peel it off. My hands were constrained inside of Peter's for a moment before he dropped my wrists into my lap.

"What are you doing?" I asked quietly.

He didn't answer. Instead, his fingers replaced mine at the bottom edges of the mask. He tucked his fingertips beneath the material and slowly rolled it up, his skin running gently over mine. I felt the goosebumps shoot up my arms before he pulled the mask over my chin.

The mask only made it to the tip of my nose, allowing my nostrils free but everything above them still hidden by the bunched fabric. I couldn't see anymore, and I couldn't decide if that was a good or a bad thing.

I should have seen it coming. I hadn't realized how dependent I was on my senses until half of them were taken away. He held the mask in place with his thumbs beside my ears and cupped the rest of my cheeks in his palms.

There was only a moment of warmth as his breath hit my mouth before everything turned hot. The first touch of his lips on mine was hesitant, its purpose to observe my reaction. The surprise factor didn't allow me to enjoy much of it.

My mouth parted slightly to suck in a breath of air. My body seemed to have forgotten how to function without my concentration. I barely had time to exhale before his lips returned, connecting with mine for a second time, then a third, in a real kiss.

His hands held my face tighter as his lips tried to coax a response out of mine. Once they did, all of my senses beside touch were worthless.

We practically jumped out of our skins as the police scanner blared with several mixed tones and voices that I couldn't understand. Peter's lips left before his hands.

I yanked the rest of the mask off of my head. I was trying to focus my eyes while he lowered the very high volume.

I could not physically bring my eyes to meet his. The silence was unbearable, but what I had just allowed to happen was unacceptable. It may have been the greatest kiss of my life, but it wasn't fair to Chase.

I cheated on him. It didn't matter how rude or immature he was. I wasn't a cheater, yet I had just cheated.

I felt nauseous. I tried to hide the fact that my heart was threatening to beat out of my ribcage. "I'm sorry. I have to leave."

Peter almost groaned like he predicted I would react this way. "No, please don't leave."

I kept my eyes low, mostly on the hardwood floor. "It isn't that, I just don't feel well." It wasn't a lie. Not this time.

"I'm sorry."

I hugged my notebook to my chest and wished for an easy getaway. "Don't apologize."

"I don't want it to ruin what we have."

"It won't."

Peter pressed the door closed as I tried opening it. His arm was extended next to my head. "Olivia."

"I just need to clear my head. We'll talk in the morning, okay?"

Peter dropped his head against his arm. "Okay." He allowed me to escape without another word.

.:::.

_Oooooh ;) I wanted to try out a little twist on the famous Spidey kiss! I actually didn't want them to kiss yet but this chapter was basically begging to be posted. I hope you liked it! Be sure to leave me a review :)_


	10. Chapter 10

_**Behind the Mask**_

_TEN: There's One More_

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.:::.

It had been three days.

I knew I was a coward. I knew I was being stupid. I knew I should have taken responsibility for my actions. I just couldn't do it. I felt like a little girl running away from a boy because he had cooties.

No, I didn't think Peter had cooties. I was...what? Embarrassed? Ashamed? Guilty? I was so many things.

It was almost like Chase sensed I was hiding something. He was on surprisingly good behavior, so good that I almost considered keeping him around. Almost. I hadn't seen him drink a beer in over 24 hours, and when I confronted him about it, he just smiled.

"I told you I was gonna change, babe." He told me, and somehow I actually believed him.

We were on a friendly enough basis that he even told me about the progress they were making in finding the spider gang after Peter. There was a pattern in events, like robberies and bank hold ups like that first one. Each crime was a trap disguised to fool Spiderman.

They all wore his signature symbol on some piece of their clothing, signifying the union between gang members and clarifying their target. It was the perfect disguise; there were plenty of fans that wore his symbol as well.

That was all the information he shared. The not-so-good Chase reared his ugly head when I was walking home from Toys 'R Us that Monday afternoon.

As I approached my building, I noticed the familiar squad car parked along the curb. Chase opened his door and got out when he spotted me. Onyx was perched happily in the back seat, her head bobbing out the window.

Chase stalked up to me with a newspaper rolled up in his hand. I could tell by the scowl on his face that this would be interesting. "What the hell is this?" He showed me the tube of paper.

I was honestly confused. "A newspaper?"

He scoffed and unrolled it. I saw the Daily Bugle headlining the front page and instantly understood. I watched him turn to my column, which was not-so-cleverly titled "Behind the Mask". My name was printed boldly underneath it.

"Oh."

"Oh? You're kidding me, right?" Chase laughed, but not with me.

I looked over at the dog to occupy my eyes.

Chase shook the paper, bringing it closer to my face. "Answer the damn question!"

"Chase, please." His tone was drawing far too many eyes.

"When were you going to tell me about this? Huh?"

I wanted to collapse in on myself. "I told you I got a job."

"Sure you did, but you forgot to mention the part where you're supposed to friggin' interview Spiderman every week!"

"It's not a big deal."

"It is a big deal! You can't hide that from me!"

"Why do you hate him so much? What did he ever do to you?"

Chase turned bright red. He always hated when I defended Spiderman. "Do you see this?" Chase pointed sharply at my column. "Everyone at the station is trying to figure out who you are because of this."

I crossed my arms to hide my sudden fear. "Why do they care?"

"It's suspicious, Liv! Why would anyone release information about Spiderman now, while he's so controversial? It's suspicious as hell, and it's dangerous." The end of his sentence was drowned out by a round of sirens.

A fire truck sped by, its red lights bouncing off of the buildings around us. It whirled around the corner, and that's when I saw the thick, black smoke pouring into the sky.

"Oh, god..." I covered my mouth with my hand.

"Looks like the next street over." Chase started towards his squad car without taking his eyes off the smoke consuming the sky. "I better go make sure everything's alright."

Another fire truck caused Chase to jump out of the street as it followed the first. Behind it was a flash of red, but it wasn't like the lights.

Chase scoffed again. "I'm not letting that damn spider join the party."

Spiderman caught up to the fire truck and swung around the corner on his web. People in the streets pointed into the sky, finally noticing the smoke as well.

Chase started his engine. "Wait!" I ran to the window where Onyx was sitting. "I want to come with you."

"Go inside, Liv. I'll be back in ten minutes."

"No!" I sounded too desperate, but I didn't care. "Maybe I can help."

Chase didn't have enough patience to argue. I slipped in the passenger side and sat on the edge of my seat as we drove to the traffic light and around the corner. The fire wasn't the next street over, but three streets away. I couldn't believe the size of the black cloud.

People were gathered on the sidewalk watching the emergency crews bravely enter the burning building. It was a little smaller than my building, but most likely an apartment complex.

I opened the door before Chase stopped the car.

"Stay here." He ordered.

"No." I snapped, disregarding his order and stepping out onto the street. Flakes of ashes landed on his windshield.

The air was thick, and I knew it wasn't my imagination. There were people that held scarves over their mouths to prevent inhaling the smoke.

"Back up, back up!" Chase parted the small sea of people and waved them away. "Step off the sidewalk!"

Most of the people backed away, but a few stayed put. I assumed by the horror struck looks on their faces that their home was within the burning building.

"Are there still people in there?" I asked a woman beside me.

"There are twenty-eight of us." She whimpered. "I don't know."

A few firefighters escaped the blaze. The stairways weren't of any use, so they needed to use the truck ladders to get to the higher floors. It would take far too much time.

The woman beside me sighed in relief. "Oh, thank god!"

I followed her eyes and found Spiderman dropping from a window with a mother and her baby safely in his arms. The mother was choking and clutching her baby to her chest.

Spiderman didn't see me. He placed the mother carefully into another pair of safe arms and slung himself right back into the building.

The poor baby cried and cried while his mother held an oxygen mask to her face. She seemed to be struggling with the child.

"Can I help?" I asked softly, offering my arms to her.

She nodded slowly and shifted the baby into my arms. I needed some sort of distraction while I waited. Otherwise I would have been pacing back and forth.

I smiled down at the little boy. "His name?" I asked.

I couldn't prepare myself for her answer. "Gregory." She whispered.

I looked down at Gregory's pink cheeks brushed with black smudges and reminded myself to breathe.

Spiderman had rescued ten people total. Everyone else seemed to be accounted for. He stood a bit slouched on the sidewalk, his suit turning black from the soot and rubble. He wouldn't be able to take much more of this.

He seemed to be looking in my direction. "Are you okay?" I asked him.

A weak nod was his answer.

I saw him going back inside and immediately returned the baby to his well rested mother. I hurried over to Chase who was speaking with a man in a red knit hat on the street.

"What's wrong? I thought everyone was out?" I interrupted.

Chase nodded at the building. "He says there's still someone inside."

I looked back at the first woman I spoke with. "But she said there are only twenty-eight people?"

"There's one more." The man assured me.

"Someone you know?" Chase wondered.

The man shook his head quickly. "There's one more." He repeated. He didn't seem as concerned as the others. He wasn't waiting as urgently for this person to be saved.

It had been almost three minutes before a window suddenly blew out. Chase and the man in the red knit hat shielded themselves from the raining glass.

That's when I saw the spider symbol stitched on the back of that red knit hat. It was subtle, but it was definitely there.

I wanted to spit on him, kick him where it hurts, anything to portray my message. He was one of them! One of those cruel, thoughtless, evil people using tragedies as opportunities for revenge!

Instead of succumbing to my emotions and making a scene, I pulled Chase to the side. "You have to get Spiderman out of there."

"Liv, he's got a better chance at saving this person than we do."

I grabbed a rough handful of his sleeve and pulled him closer. "No, Chase. This guy...he's wearing the spider symbol."

Chase furrowed his eyebrows and checked for himself. "That doesn't mean anything."

"What if there isn't another person trapped inside? What if he's lying because he wants Spiderman dead?" The possibilities were haunting all of my thoughts. I needed Peter out of there right now.

Chase glanced at knit hat again. The man honestly looked bored rather than anxious. It was so obvious!

I opened my mouth to complain again but Chase nodded silently at me. He cautiously walked up to the flaming doorway. "Hey! Spider!" He called. It was pathetic.

"Someone has to go in there and get him!" I said.

Another window blew out above us, sending more buckets of raining glass. I felt it get caught in my hair. The heat of the fire was intense. I could sense its warmth on my skin, threatening to burn me. I backed up a few feet.

"Chase!" I shouted. He was stepping further up the stairs, almost into the entrance. I didn't mean for Chase to go inside, he wasn't protected.

He called his name again, but there was no answer. Two firefighters acted as a plow and shoved Chase out of the way as they returned from their mission empty handed.

"The building is too unstable." One of them said. "It could collapse any second."

Chase whirled around and glared at knit cap. "What the hell is going through your mind right now, huh?"

The man looked startled. It had to be an act. "I don't understand."

Chase pulled out his accusing finger and pointed it at him. "Don't pull that crap with me! I'll have you arrested!"

Knit hat could see Chase's short temper and used his anger at his advantage. That smirk on his face was disgusting. "You cops won't really miss him, will you?"

My stomach jolted at the nerve of his question. It jolted again for a different reason as the roof of the building began to crumble and cave in.

My instincts pulled my feet toward the fiery doorway. Nobody else was trying to save him...

My shoulders were caught before I could cross the threshold. The red suit had holes burned through it on the shoulders and chest. He tried not to expend so much weight on me, but his body was nearly limp. I acted as a crutch to get him down the stairs and away from the burning rubble.

I felt some of his weight disappear as someone else took responsibility for his other side. We walked him to the parked ambulance where a paramedic was waiting with an oxygen mask.

The responsible person on his other side was Chase.

Spiderman shook his head as the mask approached his face. "I...I'm okay." He was almost wheezing, the smoke clogging his throat and lungs.

"You need it." I told him, fighting back those stubborn tears. "You're not okay."

"Dammit," Chase muttered. I followed his eyes to the sidewalk where knit hat used to be standing. He was gone now.

It didn't bother me like it should have. My only task now was helping Spiderman breathe again. "He won't take off the mask." I realized.

"We can't force him to take anything." The paramedic explained. "We need his consent."

He was choking, nearly coughing up a lung. "I'm...fine."

"Stop saying that. I have an idea." I stepped closer to him and poked my fingers beneath his mask. He tried with whatever strength he had left to hold my wrists back, but I fought him and won.

"No, don't..." His voice was a raspy whisper.

"Relax." I soothed him, peeling the mask just over the tip of his nose like he did for me. I noticed a hush over the small crowd that gathered around us, consisting of emergency personnel and a few fire victims.

I held out my hand for the oxygen mask. The paramedic gave it to me, the look of wonder in his eyes overpowering his actions.

I pressed the oxygen mask over his mouth. "Breathe." I pleaded.

He coughed a few more times at the sudden intake of fresh air but eventually started to suck in deep and controlled breaths. His hand held the oxygen in place over mine, but I didn't want to let go. If I did, he would let go as well.

I watched his chest rise and fall with his breathing and was overcome with a sense of relief. It could have been so much worse than it was, yet Peter was safe and would recover soon. Everything was okay. For now, anyway.

. . . . . . . .

I couldn't sleep, not after all of that. I wouldn't sleep ever again knowing how close that creep came to hurting Peter. He had no idea what he was up against. It was impossible to know if it was an emergency or if it was a stupid trap. By the time we figured it out, it had almost been too late.

I shuffled down the hallway on Peter's floor, the lights dimmed slightly overnight. It was almost midnight, and Chase had passed out on pure exhaustion. He didn't hold as much guilt and worry as the average person.

I didn't even have to knock. Peter opened his door as if he sensed I would be there in that very moment. I saw the restless look in his eyes and immediately curled my arms around his neck.

We didn't need to speak to understand each other's relief. I bushed my fingers through the hair on the back of his head and he hugged me closer and tighter to his body.

I pulled away first, but he kept his head low and dropped his forehead to touch mine. I let my hands slide down his shoulders and over his chest.

"You're crazy." He murmured, his voice still a bit raspy and weakened. "You know that?"

I could smell the faint scent of fire clouded around us. It brought back that feeling I had knowing that Peter might not have made it out alive, that he might not have been safe and unharmed in my arms at that very moment. Just the possibility of living my life without him in it felt like my absolute worst nightmare. I'd never felt that way about anyone in my entire life.

I closed my eyes and sighed. "I'll probably go to hell for this, anyway." My arms pulled his neck down and I reached on my toes to fill the space between us. I attacked his lips with mine, trying desperately to convey my newfound and true feelings for him.

Based on his response, we both felt the same way.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Behind the Mask**_

_ELEVEN: Fan Mail_

* * *

.:::.

I was wiping down the register counters at Toys 'R Us when Daniel dropped a shoebox full of paper next to me. I stopped wiping and studied it. "What's that?"

"It's today's fan letters for Spiderman." He said proudly. "We just put the box this morning, and look at how many are here!"

I fingered through the colorful construction paper. "Are you sure these are real?"

"Of course, they're from the fans, aren't they? At this rate, he'll need a truck to take them with him when he stops by on the 23rd." Daniel tapped his fingers on the counter. "You said you know that Peter Parker kid, right?"

His name made me blush. "Yes."

"Great! Can you pass these on to him so he can deliver them to Spidey?"

I knew Peter would have gotten a kick out of fan mail. "Sure, I guess I can do that." I had to drop off my broken camera as well. Peter thought he would be able to fix it, but I was doubtful.

I stopped by on the way home, but he wasn't there. It didn't surprise me, but I tried not to panic. Just because he wasn't home at that exact moment didn't mean something was wrong. He could have just been busy...

I sat down in his comfy chair and dozed off in one of my late afternoon naps to pass the time I knew I wouldn't be able to survive while awake.

I woke up to the soft clicking sound of Peter wasting his camera film on me. I peeked an eye open and saw the lens staring back at me. "Why?" I groaned, covering my face with my arm.

"Why not?" He leaned down to remove my arm from my face and drag his fingers gently down my cheek.

I grabbed a handful of his shirt to keep him close. "Everything okay?"

He loosened my fingers and held my hand in his. "Yeah, why?"

I shook my head. He sounded a bit shaken up, but I knew I was only paranoid.

Peter discovered my poor camera carcass in my lap and clicked his tongue in disapproval. "What did you do?"

"I was being careless. I knocked it off of my counter in the kitchen." I frowned at the lens, literally dangling for its life by a thread of wire. "Can you fix it?"

He tinkered with it a bit and nodded his head. "I think so, but I can't guarantee it'll work the same."

It only made me more upset with myself. "I hope it does. My brother took me out to buy it as a graduation present." Every time I thought of Greg I could feel the grief strike deeper and deeper inside me. I didn't know how far it would go before it shattered me.

"I'll fix it, I promise." Peter sensed the change in our usually lighthearted atmosphere and acted accordingly. He spotted the shoebox on the floor beside me. "What's this?"

"Fan mail." I said, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

Peter picked it up and pulled out a folded paper. He read its content, written by a little boy, and half smiled to himself. "Fan mail?"

"Seems like Spidey is a big shot in these parts." I stretched out my shoulders. "Why so surprised?"

He shrugged with a shake of the head. "I don't know, it's just unexpected. Especially now..."

I saw his point. It seemed like he was more likely to receive hate mail these days. "There are still people out there that like you, Peter."

He closed the little letter again, staring at the blank fold on the outside. "I guess you haven't seen the news yet?" I could tell he was trying to keep an uplifting tone to his voice, but I could also hear it dropping.

"No, what happened?" I leaned forward, eager to hear what was bothering him.

"Somebody called the police and reported a kidnapping, so I followed the van until it stopped, but when I opened the back doors..." He shook his head again, either annoyed or confused. "There were three of them sitting there, just waiting for me to..."

I hugged my knees to my chest, watching him struggle with his words. I also needed to hold myself together. "Oh."

"I mean, I don't even know what to do anymore. Maybe I should just hand myself over to them."

I stood up and took hold of his hand again. "Don't say that. The police will figure something out. They'll catch whoever is behind it all, and you'll be safe."

"They won't." He said. "They're just angry that I'm a distraction now. A woman nearby was mugged today, and nobody helped her in time because they were busy chasing that damn van with me."

I lifted his fingers up close to my face, observing his fingertips and how much raw power he held in them. "You can't give up like that, though."

"Can we talk about something else?" He slipped his hand out of my grip in frustration. "Please?"

I forced myself to drop the subject, but I knew it wouldn't work every time.

. . . . . . . .

Our first real fight was on Greg's birthday. I tried to ignore it all day, I tried to hold myself together, but it all came crashing down when I was only trying to help.

Peter battled his droopy eyes for the better part of Photography. He was so stubborn, looking for more good than bad in the people he was trying to rescue, only to find that there was hardly any good left. I couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a good night's sleep. He wasted time wondering what would have happened if he didn't fall for one trick after another.

He wasn't the same. I couldn't expect to smile at his quick remarks or watch him breeze through his scientific nonsense without erasing over and over again. He was so thoughtful, and so precise, but much more clumsy.

On Greg's birthday, Peter was busy erasing at his desk. I made myself comfortable on his bed, my laptop propped up on my knees. I was supposed to write a paper about women in British literature, but a blank document was staring back at me in the most taunting way.

Both of my parents tried calling me a million times. Dad used his cell phone, Mom used hers, and I got a call from the house before the cycle repeated and repeated again. I didn't want to talk to them, not then. I hated that I was rolling right back into that awful routine of ignoring them.

I typed a bunch of random letters on the keyboard and then backspaced. "Peter?"

"What?" His voice wasn't harsh, and it wasn't meant to hurt me, but it wasn't like him to respond with something so meaningless, especially to me.

"Nevermind." I wondered what it would be like if he wasn't so preoccupied with proving everyone wrong. I thought that maybe I could tell him that it was Greg's birthday and I was using most of my energy to get through the day without falling apart. I knew he would understand if he wasn't so worried about Spiderman.

I felt my stomach tighten and let out a sigh to discourage pointless tears. I didn't want him to pity me, I just wanted somebody to talk to, someone who understood. He wasn't giving me the option, and it wasn't fair.

Peter let his pencil fall as he picked up his eraser again. He rubbed the page until I heard the rip and a jumble of curses that followed.

I opened my mouth to suggest that we both take a break, but I knew better than to suggest it when he felt weak. He flipped through the notebook to find a new page.

I should have spoken up while I had the chance. Peter rubbed his hair and I worried he would pull it out by the roots. "You need to quit your job."

I was afraid to speak. "Why?"

"It's too dangerous. If they ever chose to come after you, if they ever hurt you because of me..." He wouldn't let the thought finish itself. "I shouldn't have asked you to help me."

My phone vibrated on the bed next to me, and the caller ID told me it was Dad. I almost didn't press the green button in time. "Hello?"

"Hey!" Dad laughed a little, glad he finally reached me. "I've been calling all day. Too cool to call your dad back?"

"I know, I'm sorry, it's just...not a good day for me." I regretted using those words, because Peter tilted his head a bit to listen.

Dad sighed. "Yeah, I know. Your mother wanted you to come over for dinner. You didn't eat yet, did you?"

I stared at the empty pizza box at the bottom of the bed. "I had a late lunch." I half lied.

"Well, how about some cake? Mom's red velvet?"

It was then that I almost lost it. Red velvet was Greg's favorite, and the only reason Mom made it every year was because he wanted it for his birthday. All of us hated red velvet, except Greg, which made it strange for Mom to make a cake no one would enjoy eating.

"Um." I rolled my lips to dodge a frown. "I don't know about tonight. I don't..." I took another breath, hoping the crackling in my voice would go away. "I don't think tonight is good for me."

Peter leaned back in his chair when my voice started crackling. He removed his attention from his work and paid extra attention to me.

After a few more minutes of talking, Dad reluctantly let me go. I told him I loved him, and I knew Greg would have yelled at me for ditching them, but I just couldn't do it.

I dropped the phone and blinked my eyes. I sat up straighter and stared at the computer screen, begging for words to appear out of thin air.

"It's not your birthday, is it?" I knew he was being sincere, but he didn't know how his question stung me to the core.

"No." I said flatly. I left it at that, afraid to go any further if he didn't force me.

There was a short silence. "Sorry, I just heard something about cake...your dad talks loud."

We both heard the sirens first, before they bounced off of the buildings out the window. Peter watched with a longing glow in his eyes, but he knew there was a greater chance it was a fake. He knew he would do more harm than good.

The dilemma frustrated him further. He crumpled his ripped paper and tossed it across the room.

"Maybe you should just give it up." I'd been considering it for a little while, but this was the first time I'd actually said it out loud.

Peter looked at me for the first time in over an hour. "What are you talking about?"

I drew my eyes to the red and blue suit hanging in his closet, and then looked back at him again.

He still looked confused. "Are you kidding?"

"I'm not." I said, strangely composed. "It's changing you. Spiderman is changing you, and it isn't the good kind of change."

Peter practically waved me off. "I can't just pack the suit in a box and toss it under my bed, Olivia."

"Why not? Even for a little while?"

He looked at me like I was so naive, so stupid for not seeing why. It was the same kind of look Chase would have given me. "It's complicated."

"I'm pretty sure I can keep up." The attitude was a defense mechanism from childhood. I used it with my parents when they acted like they knew everything.

Peter laughed now. It wasn't natural. "I can't believe you're serious."

"I can't believe you're treating me this way."

"What way?"

"This way!" I shouted, slapping my laptop shut. "Your back has been turned to me all day, you barely say a word, and I'm trying to help, but you're shutting me out!"

He was not as stunned by my outburst as I hoped. If anything, it fueled him. "I get that, but if you want to be realistic, you can't help me."

"Why not?"

"Because it's complicated!"

"Tell me!" I dragged out the demand to a beg. "Tell me why it's so complicated!"

Peter stood up from the desk and kicked the leg of his chair. It made a buzzing noise as it slid across the floor. "You don't get it." He said quietly.

"If you would just explain it to me -"

"I can't explain it to you! I can't just give it up, there's more to it than that!"

"Peter, they don't appreciate you anymore!" I pointed vaguely out the window. "They don't want you rescuing them, don't you see it? You bring more crime and enemies than they ever needed!"

"There are still people out there that need help, Olivia. People that the cops can't get to without me."

"They manage to figure it out everywhere else in the world. They don't have a Spiderman in every city."

"And you think it's okay to say that to me?"

"Why, isn't it? You're a conceited, thick-headed wonder boy that's only worried about his pride being damaged by some scummy criminals!" I surprised myself there, because I was saving a comment like that for Chase.

"So what does that make you? The washed up girl next door that doesn't have anything else to look forward to?" His voice was apologetic, like he felt bad for saying it but kept his tongue rolling anyway.

Somehow in our disagreement, we managed to come face to face. I was standing on the bottom edge of the bed, a foot or so taller than him. He had grabbed hold of my wrists to enhance his point from earlier, and loosened his fingers without letting go completely.

Our eyes met as we realized it was our first real fight. Peter struck me to be one that didn't prefer to battle it out with hurtful words, but he proved me wrong there.

His eyes dropped shamefully to the floor, but he stayed silent.

I stared at the wall behind him. "Greg would have been 25 today."

I heard the guilty sigh that I didn't want to hear. "Why didn't you say something?"

My lip quivered as it dragged itself into a frown. "It doesn't matter. I think I've overstayed my welcome here, anyway."

"Olivia,"

"You've been so kind to me, Peter. You've done too much for me, and I can see that I'm only getting in your way."

He tried to restrain my arms, but I kept wriggling out of his grip. "Hey, come on,"

"If you want me to leave you alone, just tell me. Don't beat around the bush. I don't have any room for all that extra drama in my life."

He managed to get a strong hold on my wrist and slid his hands up to my forearms. "Hey. Look at me." He waited for my eyes to lock on his. "It's okay, it's okay."

I fought his hold as hard as I could, but his hands were like steel traps. He pulled me closer into him until I realized I had physically lost the battle.

When my cheek touched his shoulder and his hands rubbed my back, I let it all out. I cried the ugly cry, hard and hopeless. He stuck it out with me, holding me close until all that was left was the hitch in my breath.

Once I was quiet enough, he leaned close to my ear. "It's okay." He repeated.

My pulse throbbed in my ears. "I'm sorry."

He held me closer, reinforcing his point. "Don't apologize. Don't ever apologize."


	12. Chapter 12

_**Behind the Mask**_

_TWELVE: You've Never Seen Me_

_.:::._

_Hello! This one's kinda short, but it's more of a set-up for the next chapter! I hope you like it! (There's another author's note at the end)_

* * *

.:::.

"You gotta be kidding me! What do you think this is, some kind of charity? I can't pay you if you stop giving me what I need, and I need that column!"

"I know, Mr. Jameson." I folded my hands in front of me. "But I can't do it anymore. It doesn't feel right to expose him this way."

"Doesn't feel right? I don't pay you to express your feelings! What the hell do you expect me to do now?" The man was irritated. I was basically dangling money in his face and pulling it away before he could grab it.

"I'm sorry. I'm thankful you gave me the opportunity, but I have to quit." The words came out robotically. What was I doing, giving up my only real job?

For once, Jameson was speechless. He shook his head and tapped the butt of his cigar in the ash tray. "Parker talk you into this?"

"He didn't." I answered, though it wasn't completely true. "He doesn't have anything to do with this."

Jameson was clearly finished with me. "Fine. Don't waste any more of my time or yours."

I rolled my lips into a line and exited his office. This was only my first task today.

. . . . . . . .

Peter seemed surprised to see me standing in his doorway yet again, which was strange because he usually sensed me coming. I wasn't in the mood to act tense because of our recent fight. I needed to fix this as fast as I could.

"There's something you need to do." I was on a mission, and I would complete it no matter what his response was.

"What for?" He asked.

"You." I said. "You need to go to the toy store and explain to my manager that Spiderman will not be attending that stupid celebration on the 23rd."

It was an odd request, but I expected him to catch on. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Going to that party will be like presenting you on a silver platter for all of those crazy people to pick at your bones. You can't go, not to a planned and public event like that. Try and tell him as soon as you can."

Peter's eyes bounced back and forth, trying to see my point. "Alright."

I nodded once, spun on my heels, and headed for the elevator to meet my next task.

"Hey, wait." His voice echoed a bit off the bare walls.

"I don't have time to wait." I walked slower, but never stopped. I never even turned around.

"What's your hurry?" He caught up to me easily.

"I'm starting over." I said plainly. "The last few weeks of my life have been really messed up and most of it is because I have no idea how to deal with my brother's death. I need to fix everything that I can right now before something happens and I completely lose control."

He was struggling to keep up. Was it really that difficult to follow? "Okay, okay, so...what are you trying to fix, exactly?"

I was avoiding emotions like the plague. It seemed to be working so far. I was keeping my face in a straight and secure mold. "I've already quit my job this morning. Now I've told you to cancel at Toy's 'R Us, which leaves me to still find Chase at the station." I didn't want to expose my entire plan yet. "Stop by my place later on and I'll explain. Chase will be there as well."

Peter blinked. "He still lives with you?"

I shut my eyes to avoid the drama. "He doesn't sleep over anymore."

Peter was trailing off topic, his eyes proving that to me.

I needed to move on. "Now if you'll excuse me, I really need to -"

His steel trap hand latched onto my forearm. "Stop trying to run away."

I sighed out of annoyance. "Is there something you need?"

His warm and gentle eyes tried to force any sort of emotional response out of my icy cold ones. "This isn't you." He whispered.

I was stronger than that. I wouldn't fall for his kindness, not like I did before. "It is me. What you saw before...that wasn't me. I'm not weak, or spineless, or desperate. I'm better than that. You've never seen me, really seen me, Peter."

"You're not weak, Olivia. You're far from it."

I tried shaking his hand away. "You say that now because you don't know any better." I finally shook his hand away and stepped aside far enough that he couldn't reach me again. "You'll see."

And off I went to my next task.

. . . . . . . .

Chase looked so different hunched over the laptop with a determined line creasing his forehead. "Is it ready?" I asked him.

He adjusted the angle of the screen. "Yeah."

I nodded in approval. He was working very well with me, something I never expected out of him. "Peter should be here soon."

"What does Parker have to do with this again?"

"He talks to Spiderman all the time." I said. "Peter can let him know we're willing to help him out."

I planned a little meeting between the three of us to discuss my ideas for getting those monsters off the street. Peter was coming to act as a representative for Spiderman, and Chase was supplying the evidence on the laptop he borrowed from the station. I was formulating the plan.

"Liv, why do you want to help the Spider so much?" He asked suddenly.

"Wouldn't anyone?" I countered.

"No one in their right mind." He snickered.

I simply shrugged my shoulders.

"You said you remember what that guy in the knit hat looks like?" Chase asked in his interrogating tone of voice. "I see too many idiots every day to remember myself."

"Yes." I answered for the seventh time. "I would recognize his photo."

Peter knocked on my door and Chase smirked to himself.

"He's not afraid of you, Chase." I said. "Don't waste time trying to scare him."

He leaned back in his chair, cracking his knuckles. "Of course, Liv. Anything for you."

I unlatched the lock on my door and opened it up to reveal Peter waiting behind it. He wanted to smile at me, but I reminded him with my stoic expression this was strictly business, not a play date.

I led him back into my kitchen, where Chase was set up at the table. "Parker." He greeted, though his tone was mocking.

I started speaking before Peter could return the greeting. "Chase has information on the suspects that can lead us to capturing them."

Peter stood rigidly in the middle of the floor. "What kind of information?"

Chase sat up straighter and read off his information professionally. "From what we know, most of the suspects hang out at a specific bar that's not very busy; not for beer anyway. It's located a few blocks down from an exotic dance club, and it's owned by a man named Roy Stevenson, but he isn't known to be one of the suspects. We assume he's just an accomplice. We also know that 26 of our suspects hang out here on a daily basis. It's foolish to think they aren't plotting all of their shit in there."

I cleared my throat.

"Oh, excuse my language." Chase continued smirking. "It wouldn't do any good to storm the place and take everybody in. We have to decide on some sort of strategy."

"I have a strategy." I stated. "But I need both of you to help me."

"Wait," Peter was lost. Again. "Why do you have to solve this? Spiderman can go in and do it himself, you won't have to be involved."

"You need me." I said. "My strategy won't work without me."

"What's your plan, Liv?" Chase wasn't interested in my ideas in the slightest. He found it amusing that I even had a plan to begin with.

I looked down at my feet, suddenly anxious of Chase and Peter's reactions. "You said it's a few blocks down from an exotic dance club?"

It was silent for a brief second before Chase released a round of laughter. "No way in hell, Liv!"

"I'll need a disguise. They won't be suspicious if I blend in."

"You want to use yourself as live bait?" Peter caught on clearly this time.

"I'll lead them into a dark alley and you can do whatever you need to do to capture them. Chase will escort them to their cells and everything will fall back into place."

They stared at me like I had multiple heads.

"We'll have to do it over time, pick them off one by one. If we take too many at once, they'll become suspicious."

Chase whistled out a breath of air. "That's actually brilliant. Give them a taste of their own medicine. I'm in." I knew convincing Chase would be easy.

Then I turned to Peter. "Do you think Spiderman will agree?"

Peter shook his head, but I saw the opposite opinion in his face.

"Spiderman will have to be waiting wherever I lead them." I explained. "He can hide in the dark corners, and spring into action when they least expect it. It's perfect."

Peter knew just as well as I did how there were more things that could go wrong than there were right, but I couldn't focus on those things. This was my first step in redeeming myself from the past few weeks, but I needed him to agree before I could begin.

Finally, he decided it was worth a shot. "Tomorrow night." He said. "We need to be sure they won't see it coming."

* * *

.:::.

Hello again! This has nothing to do with the story but I HIGHLY recommend you go and see The Host this weekend :) A lot of people are biased because it's a Stephenie Meyer book/movie, but in all honesty I think those people are missing out on something incredible. If you've read the book you understand :) I promise you won't regret it!

Anyway, if you've read this far, THANK YOU for supporting me and my story :)


	13. Chapter 13

_**Behind the Mask**_

_THIRTEEN: Catch of the Day_

* * *

.:::.

Chase shifted the cruiser into park and killed the engine. "Maybe this isn't the best idea, Liv."

I smoothed a strand of hair on my head. "What do you mean?"

Chase peered through his rearview mirror at the bar in the distance. "You really shouldn't mess with these guys. They aren't...clean." He chose his words carefully.

I smiled and reached for the door handle, but he locked the doors in response. "I don't mind playing dirty, Chase. It's fool proof. I'll be fine, Spiderman will redeem himself, and you'll be praised for getting these creeps off the street."

I thought playing with his pride would convince him to let me go, but he was still on the border.

I didn't have time to convince him. "Spiderman's waiting. You'll see how well it works once we're finished." I unlocked my door and leaned to kiss Chase's cheek, hoping it was enough to satisfy him for now.

I wobbled a bit in my sky-high heels but I found my balance quickly. My coat was long enough to go a little past my knees, but it did nothing to keep me warm; I was only wearing a cotton tank top and shorts beneath it to play up the exotic dancer thing. To think this was what attracted men was beyond my comprehension.

I started walking down the abandoned sidewalk, feeling Chase's eyes on me in his mirror. The thought bothered me - They don't call it a rear view mirror for nothing. I made sure to save the hip swaying for later.

I spotted the neon sign of the bar up ahead. It didn't have a distinct name, the logos of dozens of beer brands covering the face of the building. There was a group of four men smoking outside the entrance.

My adrenaline kicked in. Four might have been a lot to handle, but I was confident in all of us. At least I wouldn't have to go inside the first time.

I couldn't falter my step like my instincts warned me. I had to appear as natural as possible. I felt exposed as I walked under a street light, but I didn't let it faze me. The few seconds that I was visible were enough for the men to notice me approaching.

One of the taller ones tossed his cigarette on the sidewalk, the bright orange stub catching my eye. "Hey, sweetheart. Where you headed?"

I slowed my stride to appear approachable after I turned on the hip swaying. "Nowhere important." My voice barely shook. I was proud.

This intrigued them. "Why don't you come inside? We'll buy you a drink?"

I stopped walking a few feet ahead of them and smiled slyly. "Isn't this Roy Stevenson's place?"

I almost had to squint to see their faces in the shadows. "What's it to ya? " A grungy voice asked.

It was enough of an answer for me. "My boyfriend was here last week. He got turned in a few days ago."

I didn't expect the silence that followed, and I allowed my discomfort to flash briefly across my features. I felt my stomach twitch as I realized I broke my character. They stared at me expectantly. "Damn bug got him?"

I nodded, sensing their mistrust. "He won't be let out for a very, very long time." I emphasized my apparent loneliness.

More silence followed, but I wasn't worried by it. They nodded slightly toward each other. "You should come inside. Maybe we can help you out."

Now that I'd thought I won them over, I needed to see if it actually worked. "This place is okay, but I know somewhere better..." I twisted my lips into that sly smile again. "Want me to show you?"

The taller one bumped another's shoulder and walked towards me. "Lead the way, baby."

I wanted to vomit at their pure indecency. It was disgusting! I followed his orders and started swaying my hips in the direction of the alley beside the building. My only motivation was knowing that Spiderman would be there, hiding in the darkest corner, ready to strike. And that Chase would be close behind.

"This way," I beckoned them with an outstretched finger. They followed like hypnotized little ducklings.

I could hear them speaking to each other as their voices bounced off the high brick walls, but they had no idea what was coming.

I'd made it halfway down the alley when a spurt of spider web shot past my shoulder and pinned the taller one to the wall. He couldn't speak, the wind knocked out of his lungs.

Before the others could react, another was pinned in the same way. The two that were left caught on quickly. "Ah, it's the Spider!" He had an evil grin on his whiskered face.

"Where you hiding, Spidey?" The other man taunted. "Come down here and fight like a real man!"

I flinched as Spiderman dropped down right in front of me. "Sorry buddy, but I don't see any real men around here."

I saw the shimmer of silver in the light before I realized it was a knife in the criminal's hand.

"Drop your weapons!" The voice, loud and authoritative, caught all of our attention. Chase stood at the mouth of the alley, his gun aimed straight down the center at all of us.

"Who the hell are you?"

Another flash of silver, but not a weapon. Chase's badge. "NYPD. You're all under arrest." As if on cue, a series of sirens could be heard in the near distance.

Spiderman noticed the knife flying at his throat before I did. Throughout another few spurts of webbing and a kick at the ankles of the two criminals, Spidey managed to have them all lined up on the brick wall. Ironically in height order.

They shouted and cursed in protest, but Spiderman solved that problem with a shot of webbing over their mouths. He finally turned around to face me. "You okay?"

"Yes." I glanced back at the line up, cringing as I was subject to their death glares.

I pointed at the taller one. "May I?" I asked Spiderman. He stepped out of my way.

I marched proudly up to the man and glared right back at him. "Filthy pig." I finished it off with a clean slap across his face.

"Nicely done." Spidey mentioned.

I ignored the throbbing in my hand. "Thanks."

Three squad cars arrived on the scene and took the four of them away without catching the attention of the bar, ridden with gang members. Chase was helping shovel the handcuffed criminals into the back seats.

He beckoned me over to them. "I'll be right back..." I looked for Spiderman on my left, but he was gone that fast.

"Liv organized this all by herself." Chase praised me as I approached them.

The other officer nodded in approval. "We've been trying to find these guys for a while now. You managed to do it in one night."

I blushed, both humbled and proud of myself.

"Look, Liv." Chase leaned into the squad car and jerked the criminal's chin to the side. A small tattoo was placed just below his ear on his neck. "See that?"

"I see." This one was dedicated enough to get a tattoo of the spider symbol. "The others, too?"

"You bet." Chase released his chin, the death glare returning before Chase could shut the door. "We're helping out a lot of people by getting these guys off the street."

The third officer wrinkled his forehead as he stared at me. "Aren't you the writer of that column in the paper? The one about Spiderman?"

I was suddenly too afraid to answer. Chase spoke for me, which didn't really help. "She's got some kind of crush on him." He smirked, looking for his friends to smirk with him.

I would have rather been celebrating our small victory with the person this helped the most. Chase didn't completely understand how huge this was toward Spiderman's safety.

They did, and I blushed again despite my efforts. "He's a really nice guy once you get to know him." I said.

"Sure, but he could use a healthy slice of humble pie. The guy acts like a little Silly String can fix everything." They laughed like ten-year-old bullies on the playground.

I tucked my coat tighter around me, my adrenaline slowly starting to dissolve. "You should probably save some of that pie for yourself."

I spun on my heels to make a grand exit but I bumped into Spiderman's chest with a gasp before I could make any progress.

I looked up at him, but he was more interested in the officers and their taunting smiles. "Good evening, officers." He made his voice deep and intimidating. I stifled a few giggles.

"Spider." Chase took an extra step forward. His eyes looked Spiderman up and down, his mouth pressed into a line. "Nice work."

Spiderman nodded once in return before turning his head to me. "You must be freezing."

I hadn't noticed my chattering teeth until he mentioned something. I tried not to look so pathetic, but it was very cold outside and I was wearing next to nothing.

Spidey curled his arm around me and aimed his web at a very tall building. My feet were suddenly dangling in the air and I gripped onto his body for dear life.

"Don't let go!" I begged, though I knew I didn't need to beg at all.

He didn't respond much, just held me a little tighter than before. It wasn't enough to settle my fear of falling.

I was glad to stand on my own two feet again when we touched down at my balcony halfway across the city. I patted down my wind blown hair and hurried inside.

"What's wrong?" He was Peter now, the mask peeled off of his face.

"I need to shower." I said, heading straight for my bathroom. "I feel dirty."

My feet suddenly stopped propelling me forward. Something was holding me back, something stronger than my will to escape before I gave in to my feelings for him.

I looked back over my shoulder and followed the string of web that strung from Peter's wrist to the small of my back. He had this humorous look in his eye.

I grunted as I tried to fight the hold of his impossibly strong Silly String. I realized if those big bad criminals can't escape it then I don't have a chance in hell.

The harder I fought, the easier it became for him to reel me in like the catch of the day. He pulled me all the way back to the doors of the balcony.

He would always be able to pull me back to him, even without the web. It was too dangerous for either of us to consider now, especially since we were able to work as a team with Chase.

If I left Chase now, he would never help us catch the bad guys again. That man would hold a grudge against me forever. I couldn't test Peter's safety like that.

"That's not fair." I pouted, a double meaning hidden in my words. I still wouldn't look at him, because I knew what would happen if I did.

He unhooked the web on me and laughed a little. "You're funny."

"Well, I'm glad I amuse you."

His response tested my will power. I could barely stand it when his fingers ran through my hair that way. "You did so well back there, I couldn't have done it better myself."

"It's nothing special." I said curtly. I started imagining the fate of another girl that would have walked past those creeps if I hadn't first and nearly shuddered.

I flinched at the sound of my front door handle rattling. It unlocked and opened up. I heard Chase's voice approaching us.

I felt Peter's hand slip out of my hair before I saw him slip away entirely, completely unnoticed.

Chase finally found me standing there by myself. His grin was huge. "You were unbelievable, Liv! I'll be surprised if they don't start paying you to work for them undercover."

"I don't need money." My response was delayed just a little, but enough to make him suspicious.

"What's the matter?" He approached me immediately, tangling his fingers deep and securely in my hair. It didn't feel the same way as Peter. "You're not hurt, are you?"

I needed to make it feel better than Peter, for both of our best interests. I anchored my hands in his sides and tilted my head up, asking for one of his mind-fogging kisses.

He delivered my request, but it wasn't enough. I knew it would never be enough, but it would have to do.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Behind the Mask**_

_FOURTEEN: Your Secret is Safe with Me_

* * *

.:::.

I wouldn't let my eyes peel away from the entrance to that bar. "Just let me go inside, and maybe they'll -"

"Liv, you're not going in there." Chase's nostrils were flaring. I could see them in the dim light of his dashboard.

"They won't come outside!"

"Yeah, because they probably caught on to what we're doing! You can't go in there by yourself. No way." He squeezed the steering wheel tightly in his hands. Waiting games weren't Chase's specialty.

In a little over a week's time, we'd managed to catch almost all the suspected gang members on Chase's list, but there were obviously more he didn't know about. We kept a look out for any others, but after a few times, they stopped hanging out in front of the bar. The past few nights we had spent waiting for one to crawl out, but it ended up being a huge waste of our time. Tonight was just a repeat.

"But -"

"Olivia, I said no. No means no."

I sighed angrily, the air forcing itself out of my lungs. He used my entire first name, which meant that I'd better shut up. God knows why I started following his orders.

We sat in silence for another five minutes. I wriggled my toes that I freed from the painful straps of my high heels. The glowing clock on the dash read 12:09am. I was beginning to lose whatever hope I had left.

Chase eventually cleared his throat. "It's getting late, and I'm sick of waiting around for nothing." He started his engine.

I turned to look behind us at the bar for a final time. I did a double take as I saw the light from inside pooling on the sidewalk. The door was open, and two of them had finally crept out of their nest.

"Chase, wait!" I grabbed his arm, which was reaching for the transmission.

He peered through his mirrors. "I'll be damned."

I immediately began feeling around for my shoes hidden in the dark at my feet.

"Oh, no you don't." Chase reached around me to buckle my seatbelt.

"It'll take ten minutes. Maybe even less." I tightened the straps and released my seatbelt. "Get ready."

Chase cursed under his breath but thankfully let me go. "Make it quick, please."

I scrambled to get out of the car and catch up with them. There was no way I would let them get away, not after waiting this long. The adrenaline rush barely had time to kick in before I was walking a few feet behind them. I was trying to figure out what to say, how to gain their attention, but I was surprised to find they had turned down the alley I planned on leading them.

I put on my innocent face. "Excuse me?"

I was in no way prepared for him to hit me. The blow knocked me down to my knees and made my ears start to ring. I didn't even cry out, I was too shocked to do anything but stay still.

I looked up at them, the two dark shadows hovering over me. Spiderman would be there any moment. I would be fine, even though I never considered being able to defend myself.

But what if they already got him? What if we weren't careful enough in taking them down, and now they've figured out how to beat us at our own game? What if they were going to use me to get to him?

What have I gotten us into?

"Sorry, sweetheart." Something in the tone of his voice indicated he wasn't sorry at all. "It's for your own good."

I was finally ready to scream, to fight back, to at least run away. But it was too late for any of that.

Something thick coated my face, like a rag or a shirt. I only had to suck in two suffocating breaths before everything went black.

. . . . . . . .

My shoulders and arms were being held down, pinned to my sides by a pair of very strong hands. I wriggled and screamed, trying desperately to free myself.

I heard my name repeated over and over until I quit screaming. I opened my eyes and saw a shadowed figure leaning over me.

"Please, please don't - please, let me go! Let me go!"

"Liv, it's okay! It's okay. Calm down."

My eyes were stinging, they were open so wide. "Get off me!" I felt the hands remove themselves from my arms.

I sat up straight and blinked until my vision was clear. The shadowed figure wasn't who I expected. I was safe, in my own apartment, on my own sofa. I was fine.

"What the hell!" I yelled at Chase. "What - why did you - how did I -" I wasn't exactly sure what I was trying to say.

"Calm down." Chase repeated. "Don't move around so much."

I looked around me and discovered the scrape on my knee, still raw and pink. My jaw felt stiff and it hurt when I spoke. I rubbed it and grimaced at the pain it caused.

"That will probably bruise." He predicted.

I couldn't shake the disorientation. I started combing through my brain to find my memory of how I got there, how I managed to end up safe and sound.

"Here," Chase lifted a glass of ice water to my hand and closed my fingers around it.

I was finally ready to speak in coherent sentences, but a very impatient knocking erupted on my door.

"I'm coming...Relax!" Chase grunted as he rose to his feet and strolled over to the door. I could only listen, because my view of the door was blocked by Chase's large frame.

"Where is she?"

"What the hell happened to your face?"

"Is she alright? I need to see her." This voice somehow slipped past Chase and started approaching me.

It was very dark in my apartment, only one dim light at my desk lighting the room. I squinted my eyes to see him, but he stepped closer and into clear view.

I gasped. "Peter!"

He smiled in relief, despite the gruesome split in his lip. "You're okay." He said, probably convincing himself more than me.

I knew immediately it was my fault. He was beaten and bloody because of my stupid decision to go after those guys. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" I reached out to touch his face, but he gently pat my wrist down.

"It's not your fault I got mugged on a street corner." He watched me for an extra moment to bring me in on the lie.

I went pale, realizing I almost gave away his secret identity. "Oh...w-what happened to me?" I looked at Chase, glad he wasn't suspicious.

He matched a glance with Peter and then shook his head. "They tricked us, Liv. Knocked you out with something, probably chloroform."

I gulped. "They did?"

Chase nodded. "By the time I came around to look for you, the Spider had scared them all off. He got beat pretty bad, too. His nose was definitely broken..."

I followed Chase's eyes to Peter's face, the crooked line of his nose the most obvious injury there. It was beginning to turn purple at his cheekbones.

Peter was good at keeping his secret, his face remained indifferent under Chase's speculation. It was my horror-struck expression that ruined everything.

Chase took one look at me and knew. He knew right away what we had been hiding from him, the biggest secret I had ever kept. He figured it out just by that stupid look on my face.

He started laughing.

"Chase,"

"I knew it!" Chase rose from his seat and pointed at Peter, who stared shamelessly back at him. "I knew it, I knew it!"

I crawled up to my knees, afraid to trust my feet just yet. "Stop it, Chase."

"I knew it all along! That's why she runs around worrying about Spiderman all the time - it's you! It was you she almost ran after in that building fire! And that damn column in the paper - Oh, you got to be kidding me!" His laughter was frightening, really.

Chase kept going on and on, recalling all the instances when Spiderman had suddenly consumed all my attention. I held my face in my hands, waiting desperately for him to finish.

When he quieted down a little, Peter spoke up. "We can't fool them anymore. I should have known it wouldn't be long before they caught on to us." Peter lay his hand over mine. His voice became pained. "And they hurt you."

He looked so tortured, so incredibly responsible for what happened. "I shouldn't have risked it tonight." I admitted. "I was only trying to help. There was no way we could've known they would suddenly fight back. Please don't blame yourself, Peter."

"Oh yes, and that bank hold up -"

"Chase! That's enough!" I shouted right in his face. "Yes, Peter is Spiderman. I'm sure you knew it all along. It's over with now, alright?"

Chase kept that crazy grin on his face. He looked at Peter, leaning over to get close to him. "Just you wait until the station hears that I found out who -"

"No!" Peter and I both flinched at his threat.

Chase folded his arms and raised his eyebrows at us. "And why shouldn't I tell them? What's in it for me?"

I scoffed. "Nothing! There's nothing in it for you! Can't you just be a decent human being for once in your life and keep his secret?"

Chase pretended to think about it, pursing his lips and everything. His little act didn't matter; I knew his answer all along.

I sunk back down into the sofa, trying to stop the spinning sensation that suddenly overcame my senses. If only I had listened to Chase and gave up for the night. I wouldn't be hurt, Peter wouldn't be hurt, and Chase wouldn't have changed the unofficial statistic to all of New York minus two.

Peter's hand rubbed gentle circles on my back. "It doesn't matter." He whispered to me. "He would have figured it out eventually."

"Not this way." I whimpered.

"Hey, Parker,"

Peter's hand paused in the center of my back.

"I'll keep your dirty little secret. No charge."

I lifted my head to witness this miracle with my own two eyes.

Peter hesitated. "Really?"

Chase shrugged one shoulder like it wasn't a big deal. "Sure, anything to make Liv happy." He grinned at me with that evil grin he had grown so accustomed to.

"This isn't a joke, Chase." I warned him. "You can't tell anyone."

"Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me."

Peter dropped his hand slowly away from my back. He wanted to get out of there. It wasn't easy to miss. "I should get going."

"Okay." I said weakly. I was both physically and mentally exhausted. "Let me walk you out."

"No, stay here. Drink some more water, I'll come see you in the morning. I'll bring your camera with me."

I felt a little brighter then. "You fixed it?"

"Good as new."

I sighed, relieved that I had something left to cheer me up. "That's great! Thank you!"

Chase clearly felt left out, and he resorted to the kitchen after Peter was gone. I lay back on the sofa, wanting more than anything to sleep but my restless mind was forbidding it.

When Chase returned, he held a bottle of beer in each hand. He offered one to me. "I bet this will help you sleep better tonight."

I was well past my drinking days, but the thought of sleeping at all intrigued me. I took the bottle and drank a large mouthful of the nasty alcohol.

"How's that?" Chase grimaced with me.

"It's good." I choked.

Chase laughed at me, taking a sip of his own. "It'll help you forget, too."

Forgetting what happened tonight was even more intriguing. I drank some more, becoming numb and carefree, just as I had when I was trying to forget about my brother.

The last thing I could remember was Chase's smile, the heart-breaker one that sucked me in when I met him. "That's my girl."


	15. Chapter 15

_**Behind the Mask**_

_FIFTEEN: We Shouldn't Be Friends Anymore_

* * *

_.:::._

The next day, I made a terrible mistake.

I had spent days striving to regain control and order in my life without making those terrible mistakes, but it turned out I was never cut out to fix anything in the first place. My specialty was making things much, much worse.

I was doomed from the start.

I woke up in my bed, frozen with a fear I'd never known before. I knew if I'd slept another few hours I would have been hungover just as badly as that one morning. But I wasn't afraid of the hangover.

I could already feel the bareness of my body against the sheets. I felt it without even moving. I stared in horror at Chase's back, facing me from across the bed.

I moved my fingers first. They were curled up tightly in my chest. I felt the fabric of my bra, and my bra alone. It allowed a bit of relief to flow through me, but not much. I was lying in bed wearing only my bra and underwear after a drunken night I barely remembered. I wasn't out of the woods yet.

I knew I wouldn't agree to sleep with Chase while sober, but I didn't know what I was like while drunk. One beer turned into three. It didn't take much for my fragile body to succumb to the alcohol.

I was stupid. So, so stupid...

Chase stirred in his sleep, almost as if he sensed I was awake. He turned to face me. I stayed silent in my frozen state.

He opened his eyes, slowly and carefully, noticing the fright in mine. "What?" He mumbled.

I had to call up enough bravery to answer. "What happened?" I asked in a small and controlled voice.

It appeared that he'd gotten slapped across the face with the memory, and he covered it with his hands in a soft groan.

"I asked you a question." I reminded him in the same voice. "What happened last night?" He looked over to me again, his eyes trailing down to my chest. I covered myself sensitively with the sheets. "Answer me!" I nearly growled at him.

"Nothing." He gave in to my hostility. I was using it to mask my fear. "Nothing happened."

"You're lying." I suspected, watching the regret grow in his face. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not." He insisted. "Nothing happened, I promise."

"Then why the hell am I almost naked?"

"Because," He looked uncomfortable, caught in the filthy lie. "You wanted to...it was your idea, but I stopped you after you - you know, stripped yourself down. I knew you were drunk, way worse than me. You got in the bed and passed out right after, that's all."

I tried recalling the series of events, but I couldn't make the connections. Something else was telling me that he wasn't lying after all. I still didn't care. I closed my eyes and cuddled myself close, praying that the tears would hold off until I was alone.

He touched my arm. "Liv, baby, don't be upset."

I whispered it first. "Get out."

Chase waited for it to sink in. "What?"

"Get out!" I screamed now, and the sudden, loud volume caused him to flinch.

"Why are you mad at me? I stopped you before you tried to -"

"Chase, you better get the hell out of my apartment or so help me I will -"

"I don't see why I'm the bad guy here!"

I sat up in the bed, holding the sheets to my chest as protection. "You did this to me! I was never like this before, I was never so drunk in my entire life that I couldn't control my own actions, let alone remember them! This is all your fault, so get out of my life! Get out!"

He actually had the nerve to chuckle. "Jesus, Liv. You really do need help."

"You're one to talk!" I barked.

He rolled out of the bed, wearing a pair of shorts. "What will you do, huh? What will you do when I'm gone? Give yourself away to some loser?"

I scrunched my nose at the thought. "I'd give myself to anyone but you."

He laughed again, but without humor. "Okay. You know, the only reason I stayed with you is because I felt bad you lost your brother that way, but now I see what you really are."

"And what's that?" I shouted, certain that any of my neighbors could hear. "What am I to you, Chase? Because I'll tell you exactly what you are to me!"

He grabbed his backpack and threw on his t-shirt. "You're just a helpless little girl lost in the big city without her brother here to protect her, and you try to act tough and scary, but you're not. You're too afraid of the world and of yourself to live your life anymore. You push everyone away and expect us to come back for you! Why should we?"

The tears arrived earlier than I had planned. Not because his words hurt me, but because they were completely true. "Get out! Get out now!"

"Gladly." He spun on his heels and headed for the door with the impression that he was the one that ended the relationship. "You need to grow up, Liv. Greg isn't here to hold your hand anymore."

I became so infuriated that I clutched the sheet around my body and raced after him. I caught the door with my foot and stood halfway in the hallway. "You better not come back here! I hate you, and I never want to see you again!" The screaming and crying drowned out most of it, but I knew he got the picture. He never looked back.

It took me a few seconds to realize I was exposed in the hallway. I almost didn't care, but I assumed someone might call the police if they saw me. I watched at the end of the hall as the elevator opened for Chase. Someone stepped off as he stepped on. The doors closed, and I watched helplessly as Peter approached me.

Why did he have to make an appearance every time I lost my mind?

"What are you doing here?" I snapped at him.

His head was down, verifying that my camera was as good as new, just like he promised. He was stopped a distance away, viewing my situation from afar. "Your camera." He said hesitantly.

I took an extra deep breath, reminding myself not to take my anger out on Peter. I held the sheet with one arm and shakily reached for the camera with the other. "Thank you."

He made sure to keep his eyes elevated. The left one had a dark ring beneath it, a product of his crooked and broken nose. "Is everything okay?"

I brushed my hair back and away from my face with a sigh. Was everything okay? I had just permanently and selfishly ended whatever it was that I had with Chase, the only other man in the city that knew Spiderman's secret identity.

"Oh, god!" I collapsed against my door, holding a hand to my clammy forehead. The fact that he knew didn't even cross my mind. I was just plain sick of the man, sick of the way he made me feel. I hadn't thought of what it would mean for Peter in the slightest.

He noticed me watching the elevators with bulging eyes. He looked back himself at the closed doors. "Did he...did he do something to you?"

"It doesn't matter." I told him, debating whether I should hide under my bed for the rest of my life gathering dust or suffer through the consequences.

He reached for one of my arms to support me. "What did he do?"

"He didn't do anything. He didn't do anything at all." I finally admitted. "I'm an idiot. God, I'm such an idiot!"

"You're not an idiot. Don't say that." Peter used a soft and soothing tone, but I was well past being soothed.

"Peter, he hates me for dumping him on his ass! Don't you realize what that means?"

A strange little light flickered in his eyes. "You dumped him?"

It was a nightmare. "He's probably already spilling his guts to the press. It's my fault. It's always my fault! You shouldn't have trusted me the way you did. I've destroyed your whole life. Everything is ruined because I couldn't keep your secret. Chase is right, I'm just a coward. I thought I would be able to help you, but I've done the complete opposite. We shouldn't be friends anymore, Peter."

I was too caught up in my self-loathing to notice his thumb running over the tender spot on my jaw. I discouraged my desire to kiss him. I might have been a coward, but I wasn't going to rebound that quickly.

Peter invited himself to lean right in and kiss me anyway, like it was the most causal occurrence in the world. It really did feel natural, effortless. I even kissed him back.

He stepped away just as suddenly, still caressing that bruise on my jaw. "You're right. We shouldn't be friends anymore."

I kept my eyes closed. "You shouldn't do that if you agree with me."

He ignored my request and leaned close again, close enough to ghost his lips over mine. "I really can't be your friend anymore, Olivia."

I understood what he meant, how he was playing with his words. It only made me want him more. "But Chase will be so angry if he sees us. Who knows what he'll do if he finds out. He can hold your secret over our heads and get us to do whatever he wants."

"He doesn't have to find out, does he?"

If I couldn't keep the first secret from Chase - the more important secret - then I had to keep this one. It was the least I could do, since I was already agreeing to the most dangerous relationship I ever imagined.

Peter spun his finger around the ends of my hair. "You don't seem very enthused."

I squinted my eyes a bit. They were still somewhat sensitive to the light. "I am, I'm just...not in the best shape right now."

He nodded, finally able to put some of the pieces together. "Do you need anything?"

"Not really." I felt somehow at peace with myself, even though I'd been insulted and humiliated by the fool that had just walked out. "I just need some time alone. I have to throw all of his things out the window."

Peter smiled, but bit his bottom lip. "Should I feel guilty?"

"Not at all. He had it coming." I told him, redirecting my attention to my camera again. "Thank you, though, for fixing this. It means a lot to me."

He waved his hand in the air.

"How much do I owe you?"

"How much do you owe me? Nothing."

"No, I have to give you something for this." I peeked inside the apartment to see if I had spare dollar bills sitting on the desk near the door.

"I don't want any money," He said, fighting another smile. "I have you."

I practically snorted in laughter. "Can you get any cheesier?"

"Is it working?"

"Peter, please let me pay you."

"Fine." He pretended to count up the numbers in his head. "You owe me about four billion dollars."

I dropped my eyebrows and gave him a look, the sort of look my mother gave me when she knew I was being mischievous. "Really?"

"Really."

I rolled my eyes and pulled at the collar of his shirt, connecting his lips with mine when I could reach them. I wrapped one arm around his neck and held him there for a while, relishing in the fact that he was officially mine and I was officially his.

It thrilled me to know we were finally together. I still needed to be healed after Greg's death, and I knew Chase had only caused more damage. Peter would be able to get me back to normal and eventually start healing me, something I never imagined possible before I met him.

And when he kissed me this way, slowly and certainly , I stopped feeling so hopeless. I didn't regret dumping Chase; I only wished I had done it sooner. I didn't worry about Spiderman or what Peter would do about the escalating problems that were surfacing. Being with him gave me something I was sure I would never get back: hope.

Peter broke the kiss but pressed his forehead against mine, the tips of our noses still touching. "You're sure you're okay?" He asked one more time.

I nodded, slowly coming back down to earth and becoming conscious of myself. I stepped backwards into my apartment and held the door knob in my sweaty palm. "I will be."

* * *

_Yaaaaaaaay finally! :) Sorry if this is a little too dramatic...I don't know I guess it's just more fun to write dramatic scenes rather than dull ones :) I hope you like it either way! I probably won't be updating for a little while now (senior class trip to DISNEY WORLD) but I still want to thank all of you for reading! This story would be nothing without you :)_


	16. Chapter 16

_**Behind the Mask**_

_SIXTEEN: Date Night_

* * *

_.:::._

"How about that one?" Peter jerked his chin towards an approaching woman with electric blue lipstick.

I rolled over in the fresh, green grass of Central Park to spot her myself. We were spending the afternoon trying to interpret our most recent assignment for Photography, which asked for us to photograph something under the title of 'unusually beautiful'. It was our last assignment before the Photo Expo that would take place the upcoming weekend.

"No, that's not it." I smiled at the unusual part, but I didn't see the beauty.

"What does unusually beautiful even mean?" Peter pondered the thought out loud. "Unseen beauty, or ignored beauty?"

"Maybe it doesn't mean beauty at all." I suggested. "Maybe it's something completely different." I lay back in the grass again, allowing the late spring sun to soak into my skin. I was finally able to breathe without a hitch in my breath or the constant tightness in my throat. I didn't feel like I was on the verge of tears anymore. For the first time in a very long time, I felt good.

"Maybe it's a trick question." Peter snorted.

I chewed my lip in thought, tinkering with the lens of my camera. I almost lost myself in my own little world. When I looked up at Peter again, a flash coated my face.

"Like a candid?" Peter asked. "I'd say that's unusually beautiful." He showed me the photo he'd taken. My eyes were wide with the flash, and it looked like I was biting my lip off; not to mention the way my hair was spread like octopus arms across the grass. It was terrifying.

"Delete it." I felt my cheeks go red.

"Why? I like it."

"Peter, delete it."

He shook his head, teasing me now.

I reached across him to grab the camera. "Delete the damn picture!"

"Why are you so insulted? It's a candid photo, it's supposed to be like that." He held it high in the air.

"I look like an alien." I laughed regardless, climbing over him to steal it away. He had no problem keeping the camera just out of my reach. "You can't use that photo."

Peter wrestled me to the grass and pinned my arms over my head. "I am most definitely going to use it. Know why?"

"Why?" I grumbled in defeat.

"Because I fixed your camera for you, so you owe me." He leaned down and kissed me once on my lips, just a tender but meaningful touch. "And because you are a beautiful alien."

I smiled, my eyes still closed and absorbing sunlight. "You can't assume that you can solve everything just by kissing me."

He laughed and kissed me again, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

My life consisted of more playful and lazy days spent with Peter with less stressful and hectic days spent with Spiderman. Those days were still lessening over time, and it gave me an overall sense of relief. Maybe it would eventually just fade away. He had a habit of making my life very stressful, but he could also take it all away with a quick little smile in my direction.

In addition to his kiss, I flinched at something slobbery and warm swiping repeatedly across my cheek. I guided Peter's head out of the way to discover the familiar German Shepherd standing over us.

I leaned up on my elbows, wiping my cheek with the back of my hand. "Onyx?" I immediately scanned my eyes over the grassy area around us. "What are you doing here?"

Peter scratched her head as she became comfortable sitting beside us, her tongue dangling and her tail wagging. I realized then that only one person would be close behind her. I hurried to get out from beneath Peter, sitting up straight on my knees.

"Well, well." Chase strolled over to us, a large sweat stain on the front of his t-shirt. "I didn't pin you to be one to bounce back so fast."

It was the first time I'd seen his face since I kicked him out of my apartment. "It's been almost...what, three weeks now?" I reminded him, attempting to use the same tone he was using.

Chase shrugged. "Hey, I'm glad you aren't moping. So how've you been? Looks like you've been keeping yourself busy."

Something came over me, and I suddenly wanted to rub it in his face, regardless of the consequences it would have. "I'm great." I grabbed Peter's hand and intertwined our fingers. "I'm really great."

Chase chuckled like I knew he would. "Cute, Liv. Real cute." He eyed Peter next. "And how's the bug world treating you, Parker?"

Peter wasn't sure where to go, especially since I had just shown Chase we were together through my actions. "It's alright." He decided, though he seemed disappointed in me. Maybe I'd become too confident in the time I'd been away from Chase.

Chase nodded. "Sure seems that way, doesn't it?"

I wasn't in the mood for his games. "Chase, that's enough."

"I'm just saying, don't put your guard down. They might be lying low now, but I can almost guarantee they're preparing to strike at any moment." He spoke in a lowered voice, emphasizing the intensity of the situation.

I crawled up to my feet and pulled on Peter's hand. "Come on, we better get going, anyway."

"So soon?" Chase stepped closer, reaching out to touch me. "I miss chatting with you, Liv."

Peter took a step to protect half of my body with his. "She said that was enough."

Chase grinned. "Parker! That nose looks as good as new." He was right, his nose was almost perfect again, but it was only after he purposely re-broke it to make it heal straight. I still got chills remembering the awful cracking sound.

I tugged on Peter's elbow and led him around Chase's large frame. "Goodbye."

"Hold on a second. Have you been down to the station lately?"

I faltered my step, but forced myself to keep walking. "No." I hadn't been there since well before Greg died.

"They hung up a plaque for him. Your brother. There's a picture of him and everything." Chase's voice was significantly softer, less mocking. "It's nice."

He hadn't tried to say anything else to stop us, but we hadn't spoken yet, either. I assumed Peter was waiting until we were out of earshot - although human earshot was much different than spider earshot.

He finally peeked over his shoulder and wrapped his arm around mine. "Coast is clear."

I leaned into him as we walked, admiring how the simple toss of his arm over my shoulders made me feel so safe and secure. It made me feel like I was worth something, a valuable prize. Peter was the only person that could do this to me.

Maybe that was why I was falling in love with him.

I felt him watching me from the corner of his eye. He knew me too well. "I'm okay." I assured him. I was okay, and I always would be, even though it still hurt every now and again. I swallowed the tightness in my throat. "When does it go away?"

"It fades over time," He promised. "But it doesn't go away."

I watched our feet below us, moving in perfect synchronization.

"You know what?" Peter stopped walking for a moment.

I looked up at him curiously.

There was a burst of excitement in his voice. "What are you doing tonight?"

I thought for a moment and shook my head. "Nothing. Why?"

He started walking again, a smug expression on his face. "I think it's about time I took you on a proper date."

I became giddy at the idea. "A date?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "You can say no."

"Why would I say no?"

He squinted his eyes at me. "Is that a yes?"

I giggled and reached up to kiss his jaw. "What do your spider senses tell you?"

He held me closer to him, laughing quietly to himself. "You're more dangerous than I thought."

. . . . . . . .

It shouldn't have been so difficult.

It was a date. Our first date, but a date nonetheless. It wasn't even truly qualified as a first date, considering Peter and I were well past that stage. Sure, we were going somewhere fancy for dinner, but in all honesty, the date was meaningless. We'd spent so much time together on unofficial dates, there wasn't much significance to this one.

Yet I was nowhere close to being ready, and Peter was going to pick me up within the next twenty minutes.

I sighed with a frustrated groan, tossing my clothes off of my bed and collapsing onto it. I didn't have time to collapse, I needed to get ready.

I stared absently at the television when a breaking news feed interrupted the program. There appeared to be some sort of riot outside a building faced with neon signs. I knew exactly where it was.

According to the report, the owner of the bar - we knew him as Roy Stevenson - had been murdered. The people rioting outside claimed that Spiderman was their first suspect, blaming him entirely for the man's undeserved death.

An officer from the NYPD was interviewed as well, confirming that Spiderman and his female accomplice had been luring the men from the bar in order to leave the owner unprotected and foil their plans in taking Spiderman down. He forgot to mention the NYPD's role in all of that, but he did go on to say that Spiderman may have gone a little too far this time.

My first reaction was somewhat subdued. I didn't believe Peter would kill the man. But if he had, it was the first step in taking down his strange little enemies.

As the new information began to sink in, I became much more anxious. Was it possible that Peter murdered the bar owner? I sure hoped not, but I couldn't be sure. The officer also announced on the news report that Spiderman had a female accomplice, which brought me back into the picture. Would they try and hurt me again? Would they come after me?

I started to panic. I could feel my pulse in my ears and sweat gathering at my hairline. I had gone so long without an incident like this, and I had forgotten how to deal with it. I needed to find Peter.

In my sweatpants and slippers, I scurried down the hall to the elevator and quickly decided to use the stairs. My legs carried me up two flights until I reached Peter's floor.

I knocked quickly on his door, but there was no answer. I knocked again, and the door opened just enough for me to squeeze through.

Peter pinned my shoulders to the wall. "I didn't do it. It might seem like I did, but I swear I didn't kill him."

I reached up to brush his hair out of his face. He was being honest, there was no doubt about it. "I know, Peter."

He dropped my shoulders and let his fingers get lost in his hair. "But now everyone thinks I'm a murderer."

"They have no proof." I said. "Just a man's opinion."

"Isn't that all they need?"

"No. They need evidence, real evidence that you were the one to kill him. Do they have any evidence?"

He was silent, deep in thought.

"Peter?" I prompted him.

"I have to go." He put on this face of business. "I'm so sorry, but I have to go."

I panicked again. "You can't go down there if that's what you're thinking."

"I have to straighten things out for myself."

"It's a mob scene! Haven't you seen the -"

"I'll go as myself. Just me. I have to see if there's something I can do."

"Then I'll come with you."

He laughed out loud. "You'll stay right here."

"Peter -"

"Maybe I can convince them to look deeper into it. I didn't kill him, but someone did. I'll find out who did it, clear my name. I have to do _something_!"

"That isn't your responsibility! By going down there and making a scene you'll only become more suspicious. Please don't go."

He reached around me and opened the door. "I'll be back before you know it. We'll reschedule our date night, I promise."

I was powerless, and I should have expected that. There was no convincing him. He kissed my cheek and was out the door before I could even say goodbye. Before I could tell him I loved him.

My relationship with Peter Parker was sweet and carefree. My relationship with Spiderman was a completely different story.


	17. Chapter 17

**_Behind the Mask_**

_SEVENTEEN: From New York, With Love_

* * *

.:::.

I waited an immeasurable amount of time for Peter to come back. I figured he would only be gone an hour or so, and found myself pacing up and down the open floor of his apartment while I waited for him. The pacing didn't help much.

Once a good amount of time passed, I became really concerned. We both knew what was out there waiting for him. It was just a matter of how many more times he could squeeze himself out of it. I didn't know how much more he could handle. I didn't know how much more I could handle. The uncertainty of it all was the most dangerous part.

A little while later, I started to worry. If I wasn't pacing, I was chewing my fingernails down to nubs. If I wasn't chewing, I was playing musical chairs in all of the seating arrangements he had to offer, including the floor. It was late, my eyelids were droopy, and I considered going home, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't tell if I wanted to be there so I could slap him or kiss him, or if I wanted to scream or cry. I had no idea, but all I wanted was to be there when he returned, because I knew he would. He had to.

It was so late and I was so tired that I lay across his bed while I waited. By that point, I was sure something bad happened. I was afraid to turn on the news and see for myself. My emotions went haywire, my eyelids threatening to release tears and my throat threatening to release a scream, but I held them back. Neither would bring Peter home.

When I calmed down a bit, I realized I was truly in love with him. Peter was all I could think about anymore, especially when I was caught in a memory of Greg. I wondered for a moment what my brother would think, if he would approve of my falling head-over-heels for Spiderman. I was sure he would be furious, and I could almost picture him turning red and calling me an idiot for getting involved.

But I knew in the end Greg would have wanted me to be happy, and it would be a circumstance like this one that would change his mind. I'd give him a worried call and he would reassure me, maybe throw in a joke or two. He'd tell me that Peter wasn't such a bad guy after all, and he would be swinging himself home for me any minute...

I must have drifted to sleep, because the wall-shaking sounds of thunder brought me in and out of consciousness. Each time I woke up, I felt the bed next to me in hopes of touching a warm body, but I was disappointed each time. By early morning, it was brighter behind my eyelids. I could still hear the rain smattering against the windows and running through car tires outside.

The bed was still empty.

What if he wasn't coming back? What if he was gone, missing or dead? What would I say, how would I explain Spiderman's disappearance, let alone Peter Parker's? What the hell would I do without him?

I stopped breathing when I heard the refrigerator door close in the kitchen. I thought it was my imagination, but then I heard footsteps approaching the bedroom. Thank God it was Peter, his wet hair and shirtless torso just short of a miracle.

I didn't jump up right away, despite my overwhelming relief. I kept my eyes closed, peeking just under the ends of my eyelashes. He drank half of his glass of juice and set it down on his desk. I checked to see if he was harmed, scanning my eyes over every inch of his skin. I saw he was fine, but I didn't look away. I lost myself in the floppy dampness of his hair, the gentle curve of the muscles in his arms, and the defined shoulder blades in his back. God, I was in love with him.

He went to check the stormy weather outside before he finally turned to look at me. I closed my eyelashes a little more as an instinct. I could only see his dark outline against the windows as he slipped into the bed beside me.

He lounged on his side, propping his head up by his elbow. I heard him breathing, slow and deep. I could feel the heat of his body travelling across the blankets. My skin absorbed it, but it still formed goosebumps.

He was very close this time. I knew I was probably taking up the center of the bed myself, but my forehead was inches from his chest. I had to resist encasing him in my arms.

I wondered if he thought I was still sleeping. He must have stared at me for a while, because he didn't move. Then I thought he knew I was awake. Was he waiting for me to speak?

I flinched just a little when his fingertips brushed against the softest part of my cheek. The area burned after his finger disappeared, only to return and brush it again. His touch was deliberate and certain, like he knew exactly what it was doing to me.

He took his trail of fire down the side of my neck and across the base of it. On his way back, he dipped lower and traced the curved line of my collarbone.

My breathing was shallow. He had to know I was awake now. His fingertips lingered, drawing circles around my shoulder. He led them down my arm, around the crease of my elbow, and finished at my wrist. The goosebumps weren't going away anytime soon.

"Stop," I said groggily, though I wanted him to do the exact opposite. My goal was to sound normal, to appear unaffected by his absence. He knew I wasn't that weak.

"You were worried about me, weren't you?" He finally murmured.

I let out a sigh and started breathing again. I dismissed my first idea real fast; he deserved to know exactly how distressed I had been. "What happened?"

He repeated the trail of his fingertips, starting at my cheek again. "By the time I got there, I didn't have any reason to get involved. They found another suspect, the last person to see him before he was killed."

I gulped when he swirled his fingers down my neck. "Why didn't you come home?"

"I wasn't tired, and I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. I spent most of the night thinking about things."

I considered it all in my head. While I was lying there creating the worst scenario possible, he was wandering around the city like a lost tourist.

I closed my eyes completely, because I couldn't believe he put me through that. "Dammit, Peter! What the hell? You could have stopped in to tell me your plans for the evening."

By then, his hand met up with mine again, but this time he laced our fingers together. "I'm sorry." He chuckled. "I didn't know you would be so worried."

After a moment of clenching my teeth in irritation, I squeezed his hand back in mine, staring at the reflection of myself in his eyes. I was absolutely certain he heard my pulse jump and quicken on the spot.

"What is it?" He asked. He misread my expression as anxiety. "I'm here now, see?" He pressed my palm to his face and held it there.

I used my hand to pull his face nearer to mine. I didn't kiss him as much as he kissed me, but for a specific reason. I whispered something against his lips: "I love you."

My stomach twisted when he froze, his head lifting a bit in response. My big mouth may have just ruined everything. I immediately wanted to take it back, pretend it never happened. He didn't need to know how I felt, not if he didn't feel the same.

His silence had the potential to kill me. I held my breath.

"You shouldn't," He finally whispered back.

"But I do." I insisted, trying to sound as confident as I felt. "I love you, Peter."

It only took him another moment to respond without hesitating. What started as a sweet welcome home turned into a much more heated greeting. The gentle kisses were replaced with deep and meaningful ones. Our conjoined hands weren't conjoined anymore, because they were distracted with other touchable skin. My mind wasn't focused on anything else but what I wanted, and I wanted Peter.

His fingers snuck beneath the hem of my shirt and his hands danced on the sensitive skin of my tummy, wandering places no one had ever been. His lips were everywhere, my lips, my chin, my neck, my ear.

I couldn't keep myself from tracing the bold lines carved in his chest, as well as the pattern of abs in his stomach. The entire form must have been sculpted by angels, or by God himself. My hands displayed bravery, and I practically started whimpering when he stopped my wrist from touching the waistband of his pants.

"Wait, wait." He was breathless, and completely ruining the moment. "Are you sure this is -"

"Yes."

He laughed a bit at my certainty. "I want you to be absolutely sure."

"I am," I insisted, watching him carefully. "Are you sure?"

He blinked his eyes shut and opened them again. "Uh huh."

It made me even more impatient. "Then stop talking." I forced his neck down in another kiss that proved my point.

He backed away again despite my grumbling. "You're sure you're not drunk or anything?"

I stared at him. "Is that some kind of sick joke?"

"No, no, I just..." He was still ruining it.

"Peter, look at me." I couldn't stand that worrisome crease in his eyebrows. "Last night was a perfect example of how everything can and will change for us in an instant. Right now, we're together, and we have to treat every moment with so much more importance than we're used to. I want to be with you, Peter - really be with you. Why can't you see that?"

He seemed so conflicted, it was painful to look at him this way.

It dawned on me then. "You don't love me, do you?" My voice was so cold, so fragile. I shouldn't have said anything at all.

He sighed and pressed his forehead securely against mine. "I absolutely love you, Olivia."

My pulse jumped again. He sent me on these emotional rollercoasters like it was supposed to be an amusement park ride. I tried to be sensitive to his intentions. "Then please, just shut up."

The combination of his breath on my neck, his hands tucked in mine, and our bodies entangled (with protection, of course) sent me to a different world where I didn't have anything else to care about. I didn't lose my brother, I wasn't regularly harassed by a drunken cop, and I didn't have to worry about Peter. He was there, as close as physically and humanly possible, and he loved me like I loved him.

A while later, I cuddled into his chest, inhaling the beautiful scent of his skin as his protective arms held me in place. He had to be tired after making me worry all night long, but he didn't show any signs of sleeping.

I discovered that his hair was wet courtesy of the rain outside, and I could smell it on his skin as well. It was mostly dry now, sticking up in a few funny yet extremely sexy places.

"I love you," He said it this time, whispering it into my own messy hair. "You have no idea."

I smiled in anticipation of hearing the two parts strung together. "I love you, too." I waited a little for the love to be absorbed before I spoke again. "Peter?"

"Hmm?"

I drew a tiny box on his chest with my finger. "Don't you ever put me through that again."

I felt his entire body go cold. "I thought - I mean I enjoyed myself..."

I dropped my forehead to his chest and giggled. "No, no, me too. I mean going on late night adventures when you're wanted by criminals and accused of murder."

"Oh." I bet all my money he was blushing. "Okay, I won't."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

I outlined the box I drew again. I knew I was asking him to choose between two things that he loved, and I already understood that Spiderman was his top priority. All he had to do now was decide which was better for him.

.:::.

_Ah, I hope I got that chapter right :P This is just an FYI/heads up that the end is near...only a few chapters left :( I love writing this so much, but I also love that all of you have followed along this far! I appreciate your support more than you think :) be sure to tell me your thoughts in a review!_


	18. Chapter 18

_**Behind the Mask**_

_EIGHTEEN: Stay With Me_

* * *

.:::.

We couldn't have slept long at all. The sky was still dimly lit by the sun, breaking through the thick clouds from the storm overnight. I felt Peter roll out of bed, the warm bubble around us breaking and sending chills up the back of my neck. He thought he was being sneaky.

I kept my eyes closed and reached my arm behind me to catch his shoulder before he was out of reach. "No," I whined, upset by the sudden loss of comfort.

I heard him sigh and lean back over me, kissing my temple and petting my hair. "I won't be long this time, I promise." He murmured, as if it gave him permission to leave me.

My muscles felt like wet noodles. "Don't go." I pleaded.

He stayed for a few moments, long enough for me to start drifting back to sleep. He kissed my head again and I knew what would follow.

"No." I tried to be more firm, clawing my fingers into his shoulder. "Stay with me."

He pried my fingers away with ease. "Olivia..."

I was still exhausted, but in a good way. I could hardly keep my eyes open. "Don't leave me, Peter."

He sighed again. I wasn't being fair at all, but justice was the last thing on my mind. I couldn't let him out of my sight, not after the hell he put me through the night before.

Then, a brilliant idea.

I gathered some strength and dragged his head down into a good kiss. I used my grip on him to my advantage, molding our bodies together. I lost my fingers in his hair, tugging at it just enough to keep him interested. It was all executed perfectly, and he almost fell for it. Almost.

Again, he brushed my limbs away and managed to completely escape. "I'm sorry, but I have to go. Close your eyes, go back to sleep. You won't even know I'm gone."

It was no use. I dropped my arms limply to my sides and watched him walk around the room, preparing himself for a day in Spiderman's shoes. He glanced at me again before he left for good.

He seemed so conflicted, guilty, and responsible all at the same time.

I took advantage of this situation as well, pouting with my bottom lip stuck out. "Please?"

"Don't do this to me."

I rubbed my eyes with my knuckles. "Will you at least promise to swing by later?" I didn't feel like laughing at my own joke.

"Absolutely."

And then he was gone, and I was left with the same awful feeling of uncertainty. I would have to get used to it eventually.

. . . . . . . .

I wanted no part in falling back to sleep, so after a while I hauled my restless body out of the bed and decided to go home.

On the walk back to my apartment, I found that I couldn't stop smiling. For some reason, I was embarrassed. I partially covered my mouth with my fingers to hide the smile, but who was I hiding it from? Myself? I deserved to be happy.

"Well, aren't you just a little ray of sunshine this morning?"

I expected the smile to disappear at the sound of his voice, but may have grown bigger. Truthfully, I felt exactly like a ray of sunshine. "Oh, hello."

Chase was blocking my doorway, his shoulders nearly as wide as the frame. "Out and about so early?"

It was easier for the smile to fade now, imagining his reaction if he discovered I'd spent the night with Peter. "I've been restless, waking up earlier, you know." I muttered, trying to reach for the door knob.

Chase caught my wrist and held it securely in his hand. "You scared the hell out of me. I thought you were out getting involved with that murder."

I swallowed roughly. "It's already been handled, but thank you for your concern. Now if you'll excuse me,"

He stood up straighter, business-like. "No, Liv. We need to talk."

"About what?" I folded my arms across my chest. It didn't matter what he wanted to talk about; I didn't have the patience.

He was conscious of anyone that may somehow hear him speaking, and his eyes peered down into mine. "I wouldn't bother you unless it was important."

That sounded so reassuring. "What is it?"

"They're coming after you now."

"Who?"

"You know who."

I shook my head at his poor attempt to scare me and tried to force myself past him. Chase stood as sturdy as stone, blocking the doorknob.

"What is your problem?" I demanded.

Chase was trying hard to tame my temper. "It's not my problem, it's yours. Can we talk inside?"

"No, we can talk right here."

"Fine." He gave in to my stubborn attitude. "Remember those creeps that hit you in the alley? And the guy from that building fire, with the red knit hat? They remember who you are, Liv. They've figured out that you are somehow tied to Spiderman, and now they're targeting you in order to get to him."

"How do you know that?"

"You've noticed how things have been relatively calm lately. It's easier for them to take you quietly than make a scene and take the Spider. They've been trying to figure you out instead of wasting time chasing a bug."

I started shaking my head again, refusing to believe it. "Are you sure that's -"

"I wouldn't tell you if it wasn't."

I chewed my lip. "They don't know about Peter, do they?"

"It isn't likely, not if they're pursuing you instead. They've hit a wall, and you are the only way they can get through."

I let the information sink in. "Okay, so now I'm the target. What does that mean?"

It was one of those rare occasions where Chase was speechless. He just silently shrugged his shoulders.

I thought out loud, talking it through. "Well, the last thing Peter needs is to worry about me. If I act like something is wrong, he'll be suspicious and blame himself when everything spins out of control. So that's not an option."

Chase was just as stubborn as I was. "Why don't I hang around, then? Just to be safe."

"Please, don't do that." I begged. He had reduced me to begging. "I can handle myself."

"If you haven't noticed, I don't give a damn about the Spider. I'm only worried about you. I told you before, you shouldn't mess around with these guys. They're dangerous."

"Yes, and so is crossing the street and swimming after a meal. I just won't let them find me, that's all. No big deal."

"You don't know who you're hiding from. I can take you to the station, show you some of what we found."

It was after he made that offer that I noticed something a bit off about him. Something in the way he carried himself, or something in the tone of his voice...

"Will you come?" He persisted.

I didn't have anything else to do except rot in my apartment waiting for Peter's return. "Fine, just let me get dressed first."

I heard his very subtle sigh of relief.

. . . . . . . .

I stared absently out the window of his police cruiser as we sat helplessly in traffic. Chase's patience was being tested, as was mine. I didn't want to spend any amount of time with him that wasn't necessary or regarding my safety.

We crawled up another block and I was blinded by a sun glare I wasn't expecting.

I shielded my eyes and looked at the bizarre new skyscraper. It came to a slanted point and had the word STARK advertised on the face of it.

Chase saw me staring. "That's Tony Stark's new building."

The name sounded familiar. "Isn't he-"

"Iron Man." Chase nodded. "The one and only."

I found myself unimpressed. "He just comes here and builds another skyscraper?"

"Wouldn't you, if you had the cash and the brains to do it?"

I watched the building again, the sun now at a different angle as we pulled forward. "It just seems...arrogant."

Chase scoffed. "You're just jealous."

"I'm not." The building slowly creeped out of sight. "I'm just assuming Peter will get a healthy dose of competition with the likes of that moving into the neighborhood."

The traffic suddenly dispersed, and we were free from waiting any longer to go forward. Chase traveled straight for a few more blocks before he turned left in the wrong direction.

I pointed it out to him. "Um, you missed the -"

"We're not going to the station." His business face returned, only this time it was truly meant to threaten me.

I could already feel myself shrinking. "Where are we going?"

He didn't answer me, he just continued gripping the wheel with his white knuckles and drove forward.

"Chase, where are we going?" I asked again.

"Liv, you really shouldn't talk anymore." He warned me through his teeth. "Just be quiet so we can get this over with."

* * *

_Mean cliffhanger, yes. It's even meaner because my updates are going to become slower and slower until school gets out in June. But I have taken your advice and thrown in a little Iron Man in preparation for the new movie! I've also come up with the crazy idea of making a sort of sequel-ish thing for this story featuring the Avengers recruiting Spidey to join? Would anyone be interested? I may end up writing an Avengers story either way, but if you'd like to see these characters continue let me know!_


	19. Chapter 19

_**Behind the Mask**_

_NINETEEN: Too Much Hate_

* * *

.:::.

The bar looked very different in daylight. It blended in with its surroundings, and seemed bare without the glowing neon signs.

Chase opened the car door for me, but not in a gentlemanly way. He barely gave me enough time to unbuckle the seatbelt before he dragged me out of the seat himself.

His fingers dug uncomfortably into the crease of my elbow. "That hurts." I informed him.

He swung me out of the way and shoved the door closed again. There weren't enough people on the street to see the violent way he was handling me.

I tried to shake him off to see if I had any chance of escape. He only squeezed harder. "Stop it, I said that hurts!"

"I said be quiet." He growled.

"You're an ass."

He laughed. "That isn't news to me, babe."

Chase towed me up to the entrance and pushed me inside. It was stuffy, probably a mixture of alcohol and sweat that hasn't been released from the room in days. To my surprise, it was also deserted.

"So you're like the delivery boy?" I asked sarcastically. "Getting paid to lure me into their evil lair?"

"No tips, please."

I scoffed. "I should have never trusted you."

"You made it look easy." He put me on a stool at the bar, pinching my wrists together in my lap. "All I had to do was ask, and here you are." He slapped a pair of handcuffs on me.

"I'm not as ashamed as you should be." I told him. "I'm not the one that gave up my dignity to join a bunch of bullies."

He walked around the other side of the bar. "I never joined them, Liv. I'm just doing what's best for everyone in the city. If you ask me, I might be the hero."

I openly rolled my eyes at him, but I didn't give him the satisfaction of a verbal insult. When I looked back, he had concocted some sort of frilly little drink with a cherry on top.

"See, now this is a big girl drink." He stirred it slowly, watching my grimace with a smirk of his own. "I don't think you're old enough for something like this."

"What do they want with me? Just get it over with." I didn't want to sound so desperate, but my anxiety was increasing with every moment.

Chase dropped the cherry in his mouth and rolled the stem in his fingers. "Don't ask me. I'm just the delivery boy, remember?"

"They didn't pick a very good hideout." I said. "This is the first place Peter will look."

"Good. That's exactly what we want."

I hated that smirk on his face. I hated that he tricked me, and I hated that I fell for it. I hated him so much.

But my hate was obviously fueling him. Maybe hate wasn't the key to escape. My acting skills were rusty, but I'd managed to fool the other men at this bar. What's one more? "Chase,"

He looked up at me, raising his eyebrows. I turned my face away to appear ashamed, exactly the opposite of how I'd been acting.

"I was stupid to push you away. You were only trying to help me, and I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. I'm sorry."

His laughter made me feel like an idiot. It also made me realize I was stuck here, acting as live bait for Spiderman to walk into another one of their traps. This time, he would actually be killed.

My tears were real, but not for the reason Chase believed. I bit my lip to hold them back.

"Aw, Liv." He walked back around the other side of the bar. He looked down at me like I was a hopelessly confused little child.

Ironically, I was fooling him without even trying. I had to remind myself to keep crying, using my weakness as a strength.

"They won't hurt you." He said, holding my cheek in his hand. "I won't let them hurt you." I didn't believe his intentions were to hurt me; he would have done that already.

"I'm scared." I whimpered, sniffling a little too, just for show.

He caressed my face as he spoke, trying to soothe me. "After today, there won't be anything to be afraid of, you'll see."

I looked up at him with my watery eyes. "What will they do?"

"It might be hard to see now, but it'll be better for everyone once the Spider's out of the way. There are too many people in this city to seek out all his enemies. They'll never stop trying to kill him, but this way, we'll be able to do it with everyone else in mind. You're not a selfish girl, Liv. You would do the same thing if you gave it a chance. See how it works?"

He spoke of murder like it was a gift, something I should be grateful for. I always knew Chase was a little insane, but now he'd proven he was psychotic. I had to get out of there.

I nearly fell off the chair as the large metal door of the entrance peeled open. Two men began approaching us, but I was only looking at one. He wore a red knit hat on his head and an evil grin on his face.

"Hey there." He said to me. "Olivia, right? I don't think we've properly met." He offered his hand to me but soon realized I was handcuffed. He glared at Chase. "What the hell is this?"

"She gets a little restless." Chase explained, using the same excuse I gave him earlier.

"Take 'em off. She's our guest." He smiled at me again, and I never thought I would hate a smile more than I hated Chase's. "I hope you've offered her a drink?"

Chase ignored him, turning his key in the lock on my handcuffs. It must have been a joke.

The second man stepped up to me, his face stubbly and rough. He grabbed my chin with his grimy fingers and tugged it to the side. "Looks like ya healed up pretty good." He dropped my chin and patted my cheek. "Sorry again, sweetheart." I assumed he was the one that hit me.

I glared at him, and decided I wouldn't speak to either of them.

"I barely recognized ya with all your clothes on." The stubbly one teased me.

"Hey." Chase warned, standing his ground behind me.

The stubbly one chuckled. "Right, right. He's got a thing for ya, doesn't he?"

"Shut up." The red knit hat ended their bickering.

I didn't want to cry anymore. I hated them, and I wanted to fight. I would fight if I got the chance; although it would be three large men against one wimpy girl.

Red knit hat asked Chase to join him as he was busy with something behind the bar. I wasn't handcuffed anymore, and I had a clear shot to the door. I needed to take advantage of the situation before it was too late.

I twirled out of the chair and jumped down, but my wrist was locked in a hand behind me. The stubbly one yanked me backwards again. I turned to face him and didn't think twice before thrusting my kneecap into the air. I ran again after he was a crumbled mess on the floor.

I only made it halfway to the door when I heard a strange but somehow familiar clicking noise. It practically forced me to stop when I still had a clean getaway.

"Stop. Right. There." It was Chase's voice, the low and grisly tone scaring me half to death.

I turned my head slowly, just enough to see him through the corner of my eye.

"Turn around." He ordered.

It was dead silent in the room, aside from the stubbly one and his suppressed groaning. My ankles felt weighted, but I turned them just like he asked.

For some reason, I was still surprised to be staring down the barrel of a gun. I guessed he just convinced me I wouldn't get hurt. But how could he do it? How could he intentionally aim a loaded gun at me?

I looked into Chase's eyes, really looked into them, and all I saw was the potential for murder. He would do it, he would shoot me if it meant Spiderman would die as well.

It wasn't just Spiderman, it was the idea he hated. He hated that he screwed up and lost me, he hated that he wasn't good enough. He'd lost his mind, and there was no getting it back.

There was too much hate for anyone to think straight.

So I stood there and wondered if Greg had that much time to know he was about to be shot.

"You were right." Red knit hat was watching from afar, seemingly impressed by Chase's reflexes. "She is restless, isn't she?"

Chase kept his gun raised, pointing to the bar stool with it. "Sit back down."

Red knit hat swiped Chase's handcuffs off the counter. The stubbly one finally got himself up off the ground, leaning on his knees for support.

I kept my eyes down and counted the steps it took to make it back to where I started. I sat down in surrender. My hands were strategically cuffed around the railing on the edge of the bar.

Red knit hat tightened them hard around my wrists. I winced at the pressure, yet he smiled. "You can't leave yet, sweetheart. We need you."


	20. Chapter 20

_**Behind The Mask**_

_TWENTY: Wild Eyes_

* * *

_.:::._

I woke up with a stiff neck and a pins and needles sensation in my arms. I had no sense of time in the bar; there weren't any windows or clocks I could read. I assumed my nap was only a few minutes long, but I couldn't know for sure.

Red knit hat left on some sort of errand a little while ago, so I was left under the watch of Chase and the stubbly one. It felt like a very long time, and I was convinced that Peter was going to leave me there to rot.

Why would he come? I already knew Spiderman was his priority. He would do anything to protect him, even if it meant forgetting about me. On the other hand, the creeps holding me hostage would do anything to end Spiderman, even if it meant using me to get to him. Either way, I lost out.

I lifted my head and winced at the stiffness. I noticed Chase leaning against the wall, inspecting the gun on his hip. The stubbly one was falling asleep a few stools down from me.

My movement caused the handcuffs to jingle. Chase looked up at me accusingly.

I raised my wrists as best I could with the awkward angle from being handcuffed. "My arms are falling asleep."

Chase waited a moment to see if the stubbly one had heard me. He attached his gun to his hip and tinkered with the cuffs until I was freed.

"Keep your knees to yourself." The stubbly one added, startling us both.

I didn't look at him, silently massaging the blood back into my wrists.

Chase waited for my eyes to meet his again. "Don't make me regret this."

"Would you really shoot me, Chase?" I stared down at his hip, right where he kept his gun.

He pressed his lips into a line and shoved the cuffs off to the side. "Don't test me and we won't have to find out."

Red knit hat suddenly returned, barging through the entrance. He caused a ruckus, three other men joining him. Held prisoner in their arms was a familiar face.

Red knit hat led them forward, grinning at the stubbly one. "Good news, you stupid son of a bitch. They're considering suicide."

The stubbly one laughed again. "Damn right they are. But what's this ya got here?" He glared at Peter with a sense of amusement.

I didn't understand what Peter was doing, dressed like himself and wearing his suitable glasses. He wouldn't be able to make a seamless transition over to Spiderman, not here. There was no other option, he had to play human now...or was that the plan all along?

"We found him wandering around in the back alley. I figured he was looking for something to do." Red knit hat smacked Peter teasingly on the side of the face.

I could tell Peter was struggling to keep himself from tearing out of their arms and beating them senseless. He was forced to act as the victim rather than the hero - a concept unfamiliar to him.

Chase only locked eyes with me for a split second before selling him out. "That's him!" He immediately pointed in Peter's direction. "He's Spiderman!"

Every pair of eyes in the room focused on Peter. He simply pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Red knit hat chuckled. "How do you know?"

Chase watched me longer this time, almost like he was asking for permission to expose Peter's secret identity to his biggest enemies. "His name is Peter Parker. Liv knows him, they live in the same building. That's how she wrote that column in the newspaper - she's his friend."

I became the new subject of their eyes. They weren't looking at Peter, so they didn't see the slight nod of his head. It was a nod of encouragement for the lie I was about to tell.

I swallowed my fear in a gulp. "I don't know him." I said.

"Yes she does! Of course she won't admit it!" Chase's face was taking on a purple undertone.

"You expect me to believe this scrawny kid is the Amazing Spiderman?" Red knit hat brushed his thugs off of Peter's arms and took hold of him himself. "Do you think I'm an idiot?" He asked Chase.

"I'm telling you, she's lying! She knows she's lying."

Red knit hat approached me, running his calloused finger down my cheek. "You wouldn't lie to me, would you, sweetheart?"

I shook my head.

"That's what I thought." Red knit hat walked back over to Chase and leaned close, threatening him in a low voice I couldn't hear.

"You're missing your chance!" Chase shouted. "Parker is Spiderman!"

"Shut up!" Red knit hat shoved Peter in the direction of a stool at the bar. "Sit down and be quiet."

I watched Peter take his seat through the corner of my eye. We both had barely spoken a word - his reasons for staying quiet a little different from mine.

Red knit hat turned back to Chase. "We don't even need you anymore, we already got what we wanted. Get the hell outta here before I shoot you myself."

"I'm not leaving until you kill him." Chase glared at Peter with hungry eyes. "Kill him now!"

"Why would I waste a useful hostage now, before the bug gets here?"

"God, dammit! He is the bug!" Chase whipped out his gun and took his aim. Peter was in the crosshairs.

I broke my silence. "What are you doing!"

"Tell them, Liv! Tell them who he really is." I heard the gun click again.

"For God's sake, put your damn gun down." The stubbly one muttered.

"I'll kill him, Liv. I'll do it, you know I will." Chase kept his gun aimed but focused his eyes on me. "Tell them the truth!"

"Chase, please!" It was an awful position he was putting me in. I couldn't look at Peter because I couldn't look away from the madness in Chase's wild eyes.

"Tell them now!" He roared at me.

"Stop it!" I burst into hysterics, but they were abruptly silenced as the blast of a gun shot shook my entire being.

The next few moments seemed to be in slow motion. The only movement in the room was Red knit hat dropping his gun to his side and Chase's lifeless body collapsing onto the floor.

I thought the room started shaking, but soon discovered I was the one trembling. My fingers shook as they covered my mouth, my jaw slack in shock.

He was dead, just like that. Just like my brother.

Blood began pooling beneath the body. The tears pouring down my face were silent, too overwhelmed to make a sound. My eyes blurred with them, and I could no longer see clearly.

"Are you out of your mind?" Peter finally asked Red knit hat. I heard the unsteadiness in his voice.

"I gave him a fair warning." Red knit hat reminded us. He tucked his gun away again. "Same warning I gave our buddy Roy."

I should have seen it sooner. The bar owner wasn't killed by Spiderman. He was murdered by his friends for the purpose of framing Spiderman. Red knit hat realized his plan couldn't work and went on his errand of suggesting suicide to the cops. Everything they knew was a lie.

"Murderer." I whispered. It was barely audible.

"What's that, sweetheart?"

"Murderer!" I cried. "You killed him! You killed both of them!" I slipped off of my stool and crouched down on the floor near Chase's body. I might have hated him, but I didn't want him to die. I never wanted him to die, not even when he was most infuriating.

I started reaching for the body with my trembling fingers but flinched away when the thugs took each arm and dragged it away. Instinctively, I crawled backward as far as I could, bumping into the bar and finding shelter there. I crouched behind the stools, hugging my knees to my chest.

It was Chase's knowledge of Peter's secret identity that killed him. If he hadn't known, he wouldn't have been so desperate to pull a gun on Peter. He wouldn't have helped these criminals get away with murder. He wouldn't be dead.

I kept trembling, losing control of my reaction. I instantly regretted everything that ever got me involved with Spiderman, beginning on the night that my brother died.

I mostly regretted taking the elevator instead of the stairs.


	21. Chapter 21

_**Behind the Mask**_

_TWENTY-ONE: The Stray One_

****FYI next chapter is the LAST ONE! Are you in for an Avengers-ish sequel? Yay? Nay? Leave a review and let me know!****

* * *

.:::.

They left me alone for a while, wasting their energy interrogating Peter on Spider-Man's whereabouts. Peter stayed calm and collected, as expected. He seemed to be convincing them to look elsewhere. I couldn't hear exactly what was said; there was still a ringing in my ears.

I isolated myself from the outside world. I elected to become invisible, hidden beneath the bar and closed in on myself. It was eerily similar to my behavior in those dark days right after Greg's death. I wanted to be alone, removed from the violence and death around me.

I heard the stool in front of me skid across the floor as someone pulled it away. I braced myself, fearful of what this exposure would mean for me.

"It's alright. I'll get you out of here, I promise." His voice was so soothing, so unlike what I presumed.

I peeked out of my ball of invisibility and found Peter's warm eyes locked with mine. He would save me, he was a hero. It was the same feeling I had inside when he helped me escape the elevator.

"Don't look at me that way." I whispered.

"I'm going to distract them." He told me.

"How?" I spoke the word, but only my raspy breath made a sound. How would he manage to get us out of this?

I only blinked once and the scene before me changed. They hooked onto my wrists and yanked me out into the open despite my protests.

"I'm not being nice anymore, sweetheart." Red knit hat shook me as he spoke. "Where's the damn bug?"

"I don't know." I whimpered helplessly.

"Leave her alone." Peter was restrained beside me.

"Why isn't he here yet? Where is he?" I felt the bruises already forming on my forearms.

"I said leave her alone!" Peter raised his voice, earning him a shove from one of the thugs.

"He won't come for me." I was emotionless, no feeling at all. "I don't mean anything to him. If I did, he would be here by now."

"She's right." Peter agreed, playing along with me. "So let her go. She doesn't know anything, not like I do. Take me instead."

Red knit hat glanced over at them, and their response was merciless. The stubbly one held Peter in a headlock, stabbing his head with the barrel of a gun.

"No! Please, no! No!" I easily rolled back into hysterics. "No, no, no!"

"Where is he!"

He wouldn't expose himself in front of this many people. If it were just the two we started with, he may have knocked them unconscious, but we were outnumbered.

I felt the world collapsing around me. They would kill him, they didn't hesitate before. In the next few moments he would be dead, and so would I.

His eyes briefly held mine, enough to remind me that he trusted me, and he loved me. I was worth more than his secret.

Just when I thought it was our last moment, Peter roughly shrugged his shoulders and somehow escaped the grip he was under. He knocked the gun out of the stubbly one's hand. It tumbled to the ground by their feet. Peter kicked it away before the stubbly one could grab it again and wrestled him to the ground.

"Run!" Peter shouted, his voice muffled by the hands reaching for his throat. The other thugs moved into the struggle.

I wanted to run, but my ankles felt weighted. I wasn't going anywhere. A few of them started coming after me.

"Olivia, go!"

"I can't!" I glanced down at the floor beside my feet and spotted the gun. My instincts told me to leave it and run, but my brain told me to pick it up before someone else did.

As soon as the gun was in my possession, they backed away and attempted to help the others beat Peter.

It didn't take long at all for Peter to give them all a knock over the head or a bloody nose. When he stood up again, they all lay strewn across the bar like a bunch of drunken fools.

The only one left standing was Red knit hat. I followed his focus to the gun dangling in my fingertips.

I raised my hand and aimed the loaded weapon as best I could at our enemy.

This earned me a laugh. "Look at you." He mocked me. "Remind me not to underestimate you again."

I squeezed it tight in my hands, my knuckles turning white. "L-let us go, and I won't sh-shoot." I stammered.

"Let you go? Why would I do that?" To my dismay, Red knit hat revealed a smaller gun tucked in his belt. It was small, but still just as much of a weapon.

"Olivia," Peter's voice broke at the end as he realized the situation I put myself in. Standing at gunpoint with a murderer was not a place I wanted to be.

Red knit hat aimed his gun at me. "So what'll it be, sweetheart?"

I was still trembling, and I knew I would probably miss if I tried shooting him. "Let us go. Both of us."

"I already said that wasn't an option."

Something about the tone of his voice flipped a switch inside me. I was angry, basically fed up with the entire situation. "Who says you get to decide the options here? You're not the only one with a gun."

Peter became more anxious. "Olivia, don't test him, he's dangerous."

I felt empowered with the weapon in my hand. "Be quiet, Peter."

"You should listen to your boyfriend." Red knit hat hovered his finger over the trigger.

Peter reacted with the same speed and agility as before, blinding Red knit hat with a sudden spurt of webbing. I heard him pull the trigger, but the bullet went astray, into the bar beside me. Peter elbowed him in the nose and let him fall to the ground unconsciously.

He cursed under his breath, wiping his brow before looking up at me. "You okay?"

I dropped the hideous weapon on the floor and stepped away from it.

"Nicely done." He praised me breathlessly.

"Peter," I mumbled his name, unsure of what else I could say.

He seemed to understand. "Let's get the hell out of here." Peter walked by me and hooked his arm through mine. I had to hurdle the bodies as we hurried to escape through the back alley.

"You're just going to leave them there?" I asked him.

"You got any better ideas?"

I didn't.

I expected to shield my eyes from the sun, but it was nighttime now. It took a long time to get home. Peter didn't trust anyone we came across, taking us in the opposite direction. He soon decided to just fly us home, but we still couldn't be seen without the suit. He turned down dark alleyways and hidden passageways to get us home.

When we landed on his balcony, I expected to feel safe. I knew we would be safe now, but we had barely escaped alive. Something still felt wrong and uneasy. Chase was still dead. I didn't think I would ever be the same again.

Peter read my expression and tucked my head under his chin in a hug. He rubbed my shoulders and raised my chin with his fingers to check my mental state.

In doing so, he looked down at his own hand with a horrified expression. I lifted his wrist to see for myself.

It was covered in something dark and sticky. It glistened in the city lights shining off the balcony. "Oh, god."

I came to a realization and checked everywhere on his body for a source of the blood. He flipped on a light, and my stomach heaved at the dark redness that was also stained in his shirt.

"Oh, Peter!" I scrambled to peel off his shirt. How could he be hurt? He wasn't shot, was he? Why wouldn't he say anything?

"It isn't mine. It's not from me." He insisted.

I hesitated before flipping the shirt up over his chest, right beneath the blood stain. I blinked several times before I realized he was absolutely fine, not so much as a scratch on him.

I looked back up at him, confused by where the blood was coming from. Someone was definitely bleeding, and if it wasn't him...

Peter was propping my left arm in the air, holding it delicately as he examined my shoulder. His face was white.

I looked down and saw the same red stain soaking through to my skin. There was a tear in my sleeve on the outside of my arm.

"Oh, god..." I spoke out loud, tugging my sleeve up to my shoulder.

Sure enough, a gash the width of my finger was cut out of my shoulder. I must have been grazed by a bullet, the stray one.

I stared at it, listening to Peter apologize over and over again for something he didn't do. Once I snapped out of my trance, I was surprisingly calm. "Do you have a first aid kit?"

Peter was surprisingly not calm. "A first aid kit? You need a doctor! Doesn't it hurt? Why didn't you say something? God, I'm so sorry!"

"It's not deep enough for stitches. And I didn't even realize it happened...it doesn't hurt." I ignored the sting I started feeling. "Do you have a first aid kit or not?"

He hurried through the apartment, searching in cabinets and closets for the kit. I sat myself carefully on his bed and decided to peel of my shirt to get better access.

He nearly tripped over his own two feet bringing the first aid kit to me. He stared at the dried blood on my arm and I thought he was going to be sick. "Are you okay?" I asked him.

He scoffed like it was no big deal. "Fine." He said. "What else can I do?"

I examined my shoulder and the gruesome sight with all of the dried blood. "I need to clean it." I said, and he was off again.

I pulled out a large bandage and disinfectant to use. After I wiped the blood away it wasn't nearly as gruesome as we predicted.

"Are you sure you don't need a doctor?"

"It's not as bad as it looks." I showed him the gash without the excess blood. It was only about two inches long. "See?"

He subtly leaned away from me.

"Baby." I muttered.

"Olivia, you've been shot!"

"No! It's just a graze, nothing more than that."

"It could have been more than that."

"Yes, but it wasn't."

I started pressing the bandage down and caught Peter staring with that guilty stare again.

"I'm sorry."

"Peter, please."

He held his tongue for a moment, long enough for me to understand his concern. "You're dealing with this well."

I shrugged. "Greg had a similar cut once, when we were young." I smiled nostalgically at the memory. "He sliced his leg on a rusty old fence. He didn't want our parents to find out, so he walked me through the nursing process."

Peter chuckled. "Isn't that kind of dangerous?"

I was smiling, but those stubborn tears managed to fill up my eyelids. I nodded. "He was lucky."

Peter reached for my hand and squeezed it for comfort. "He would have been proud of you."

I laughed through the tears. "He would have killed me for getting involved. And none of it would have happened if I hadn't gotten involved in the first place."

I expected him to tell me that wasn't true, but he stayed quiet.

I couldn't read minds, so I just asked him. "Do you regret it?"

"Regret what?"

"Doing what you did for me, in the elevator."

"What makes you think I regret it?"

"I don't know, you just look...disappointed. I don't know." I dropped my eyes to the floor again. "Maybe I should go home."

"Why do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"You run away when you're afraid to tell me how you feel. You can walk into a bar full of bloodthirsty criminals and aim a gun at their leader, but you can't just talk to me?"

"Peter, without me you wouldn't have even been put in that situation with bloodthirsty criminals."

"I am put in that situation every day!"

"But you shouldn't have me as an extra burden!"

We were face to face, similar to the position during our first fight. This wasn't a fight, this was how we somehow managed to get our feelings across to each other. We were different than most couples, and we were definitely aware of that.

"I don't regret it." He said firmly. "Do you?"

I did regret it at first, but it was moments like this where we were so angry but so in love that it ended up becoming a hot mess in my head. "No."

He didn't say anything more, crossing his arms around my waist and pulling me closer to him. I tried to raise both arms to curl around his neck but cringed at the pain I didn't want him to see.

He held my arm down before I could hurt myself and kissed me for the first time in almost a day. I decided right then and there that there was no way in hell it would ever be that long again.


	22. Chapter 22

_**Behind the Mask:**_

_TWENTY-TWO: Unmasked_

**_**keep an eye out for the sequel-ish thing! I'll post the first chapter here and let you know when I come up with a title! SUPER EXCITED! Thanks again, see you soon!**_**

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_.:::._

I noticed an immediate change of atmosphere as I stepped into Chase's apartment. Everything was just how he'd left it, and his parents hadn't come to pack up his things yet.

I peeked over my shoulder to make sure Peter was still following me. He remained hovering in the doorway.

"I'll wait here." He spoke before I could say anything.

I felt for the light switch on the wall and illuminated the room. I wanted to get in and out of there as quickly as possible. Onyx heard the commotion and pranced into the light from the bedroom.

I bent down to scratch her ears, but she soon found better interest in Peter. I gathered her leash and food bowls just where Chase's parents had left them.

"You asked if pets were okay in our building, didn't you?" Peter hooked the leash onto her collar.

"She's a service dog. She should be allowed no matter what." I said, glancing around to make sure I'd gathered everything.

"I thought she flunked out of training?"

"Well, whatever." As I looked around, the fact that Chase would never return began haunting me. The fact that I was standing in his apartment instead of hauling myself down to his funeral was hard enough for me to deal with.

"Is that everything?" Peter wondered, noticing my discomfort.

"Yes. Let's go." I quickly shuffled out of the room and closed the door behind me.

Peter was still cautious whenever we were together in public. The whole incident was determined to be an alcohol fueled argument that ended in a morbid way, but Peter worried that one of the criminals from the bar had put the pieces together to determine he was Spiderman. Even if they did, the police still wouldn't listen without significant evidence. But the police were the last of the threats we needed to worry about.

He walked Onyx on her leash with me following close behind. I wanted to hold his hand or something, but I knew how anxious it made him to be seen together. He'd never confronted me about it, but I didn't want him to worry for no reason.

After we made home and got Onyx settled in my apartment, I honestly had no other desire but to collapse in Peter's bed. Peter wasn't making it any easier, either. He said he would have to lie low for a few days until things involving Spiderman cooled down a bit, so he would be able to spend more time with me...while I stayed in bed all day.

"I feel so lazy," I told him, gazing guiltily at the beautiful day through his window.

"You're not lazy." He said. "You deserve some time to relax." He lifted his head from my chest and kissed my shoulder, just above my bandage.

I still felt guilty, and I was sure he could feel it seeping through my skin.

"You're worried about the funeral?" He guessed correctly, as always.

I tried not to let my mind wander to Chase's funeral. On one hand, I had a responsibility to be there, but on the other, I had no reason to attend. I just wanted it all to be over and done with, the entire thing.

"You can still go." He reminded me. "You still have time."

I only hesitated a moment. "No, it's fine."

He lifted his head again, this time using his eyes to force me into telling the truth.

"I don't want to go." I said. "I just feel like I should."

He stared at me, waiting for more.

"I don't know, it's giving me a headache." I dropped my head back on the pillow and covered my face with my hands.

"How can I help?"

"Distract me." I begged, grabbing his face and guiding him into a kiss. He immediately provided me with a distraction, gathering my hair in his hands and cradling my head.

I was only distracted for a few minutes before the doorbell rang. I thought it was my imagination because Peter didn't react right away. Then it rang again.

He broke the kiss abruptly, annoyed by the interruption. However, he didn't move. He was listening.

I looked over at the door and then back at him. "Aren't you going to -"

"Shh," He sealed my lips with his fingers. "Maybe they'll go away."

We waited another moment or two in silence. Peter inadvertently teased me with the impatient movement of his thumb on my thigh. He brushed it back and forth, waiting for the intruder to leave us alone.

"Peter," I pleaded for him to kiss me again. It was becoming unbearable.

Thankfully, he gave in to my pleading. This time his kiss was slow and steady, taking no time at all to win my full attention. I was lost, exactly where I wanted to be.

And then the doorbell rang again.

He groaned, pressing me down into the bed to make his point. "Don't move. Hold that thought."

I turned to my side and watched him hurry to the door, eager to dismiss this person and move on to...other things.

"Hey there, Spidey."

I shot up from the bed, angling myself to see around Peter. The man at the door wore an expensive suit and expensive sunglasses.

"Uh, I'm - I'm sorry, do I...I think you have the wrong person." Peter tripped up trying to find an explanation for what we'd both heard.

"Nope. I know exactly who you are." The man removed his sunglasses, slipping them into his front pocket. "Peter Parker, aspiring photographer, secret genius, and...I'm forgetting something, aren't I?"

Peter turned to look back at me with eyes the size of golf balls. I saw the entirety of the man in the doorway and did a double take.

"Tony Stark!" I didn't mean to say it out loud.

He peeked around Peter to spot me in the bed. "Oh, that's right. You're the Amazing Spiderman." He pat Peter on his shoulder and invited himself inside. "I think I have a bathroom bigger than this." He commented, referring to the apartment size.

My eyes were now golf balls as well. I waved at Peter, encouraging him to speak. "I'm...sorry." He said.

"You seem alarmed." Mr. Stark noticed it in both of us. "No need for that. I'm here for business purposes only."

Peter gulped, gathering some composure. "B-business purposes?"

Mr. Stark pursed his lips in thought. "Right, you're completely out of the loop, aren't you...well, we've got plenty of time to catch up. Come to my place tonight, around eight? I don't have to give you directions, do I?"

Peter blinked. "Uh, no, no I know where it is."

"Great." He glanced over at me. "It's Olivia, right?"

"Yes, Mr. Stark." I tucked my hair behind my ear, utterly starstruck.

He scowled. "Call me Tony. Why don't you come along? I'm sure you'll be interested, too."

I nodded too many times. "Okay, sure, absolutely."

"I'll get out of your hair." He started walking back toward the doorway, but spun around again. "Don't forget, this is kinda important."

"I won't, eight o'clock." Peter said.

"And don't worry about the whole secret identity thing." He shot us this smile that both amused and concerned me. "We're all on the same team here."


	23. AVENGERS!

_**AVENGERS ANONYMOUS **_

_ONE: RECRUITED_

_**Wow, now that I look at that title it sounds terrible...got any better ideas? I'm not very good with titles. Anyway, here's the sequel! I posted the first chapter here and I'll create a new story when the second chapter comes around. I hope you like it!***_

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..::..

Chills went down my spine again. I tucked my arms tighter around my middle, staring dreadfully at the beacon that was the Stark Tower. It practically emitted its own glow that extended for miles and miles, illuminating half the city.

Tony Stark was waiting for us to visit. He invited us himself and in person, something he wasn't generally known for. And we still didn't know how he found out Peter's secret identity, but we assumed he was still safe from any harm...for now, anyway.

Peter was sitting on the ledge of the roof to our building, wearing the Spider suit. He tilted his head back at me. "You ready?"

I walked over to the ledge, a frown of fear on my face. "Why do I keep agreeing to do this?"

"Because you love me." Peter said, simple as anything. He briskly jumped to his feet and helped me up on the ledge.

"Yes, I agree to leap off of ten story buildings because I love you." I secured myself in a grip around his side, waiting for his arm to act as my seatbelt.

"Nah, I think deep down inside you're a thrill-seeking adrenaline junkie that lives for this stuff." His arm fit perfectly around me, like it was molded to do so.

"Or maybe I'm just Spiderman's girlfriend." I countered, taking another deep breath in preparation.

"Exactly." He chuckled.

The anticipation was terrible. I looked over at the tower again. "What do you think he wants?"

He spoke low in his chest. "I might have a good guess, but..."

"Huh?" I gasped as we suddenly dipped very low, off the ledge, and swung up again with the help of Peter's web shooters. My eyes automatically squinted shut.

"Open your eyes!" He encouraged me as my stomach felt another dip.

I shook my head, hiding my face in his shoulder and clawing into his suit. Did he want me to throw up?

"Come on, you'll love it!"

"No!"

"It's like a roller coaster! You like roller coasters, don't you?"

"Shut up, Peter!"

He kept hooting and hollering like a kid at an amusement park. Honestly, it was embarrassing.

It almost wasn't worth taming the haystack on my head when we landed on Stark's balcony - if you could call it that. It was more like a giant patio, suspended a hundred feet from the ground.

Peter held my face in his hands to make sure I was still breathing. "How's my adrenaline junkie?"

"I'll let you know when my stomach gets here." I said.

He tugged off his mask just to show me his smile and kiss me like he knew it made it all better. I would never let him know it did.

"Uh, ew."

We stumbled apart at the voice. Tony Stark strolled out onto the patio with a drink in his hand, the glowing circle of light shining through his shirt.

"Sorry we're late, Mr. Stark." Peter took the few steps up to the man and offered his hand.

"Well we all know why you're late now, don't we?" Tony peered at me teasingly. "All I ask is you keep it classy, but just while you're here. You can do whatever you want on your own time."

After Tony started leading the way, Peter turned to raise his eyebrows at me. What did we just walk into?

I caught up to him before we went inside. "Why do you think he wants to talk to you?" I whispered.

Peter looked down at me with a blank expression, his jaw set a little funny but otherwise just in thought. "I don't know, we'll see." The lie was so obvious, but I let it go.

"Welcome to my humble abode." Tony extended his arm in admiration of his own penthouse suite. It was really incredible, entirely modern and high-tech.

"Wow." I voiced my opinion. I also shed my jacket, unintentionally revealing the bandage still taped to my arm.

"Battle wound?" Tony guessed, gesturing toward my shoulder.

It still unsettled me to recall the memories from that day. "I, uh..."

"She was grazed by a bullet." Peter finished, with the intention of changing the subject. It unsettled him as well.

"Can't say I'm not impressed. Oh, did you want a drink, or something?" Tony stepped in the direction of his bar.

"No, thank you." Peter and I said in synchronization. We glanced at each other at the coincidence.

"God, that's disgusting. It's that bad? Don't tell me you finish each other's sentences, too?"

We didn't get a chance to respond. A woman with pretty orange hair appeared at the head of the curved staircase. "Tony, Nick wants to know when you would like everyone in town."

Tony scoffed. "I told him I'd get back to him when I figured it out. I'm still recruiting here." He jerked his chin towards Peter and I, standing awkwardly off to the side.

The woman followed Tony's gesture and brightened up right away. "Oh, you must be Peter Parker! I'm sorry to interrupt, I didn't know you were coming so soon!" She scurried over to the two of us, offering her hand to him. "I'm Pepper Potts, Tony's -"

"Pepper, we talked about this, didn't we?" Tony tapped her shoulder. "No mushy stuff until we got him hooked in."

Pepper controlled her kind smile and nodded at us. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Parker." She flashed me an extra smile and made her way back up the staircase to return that phone call. She paused halfway up. "Nice spider suit." She said.

Peter smiled down at the ground. Tony rolled his eyes. I already knew his spider suit was nice.

I flinched at some sort of metal claw that was peeking over my shoulder. It seemed to flinch as well. In stepping back I realized it had a large arm, and wheels. A robot that responded like a human.

Peter's eyes widened. "Incredible!"

"Cute, isn't he? Made him myself. He's programmed to cater to my house guests, and me too." Tony stood like a proud papa.

Peter bent down to get a closer look. He reached out to touch the crazy little robot. "The wiring is so tight and precise. How'd you manage to hide the mother board inside such a sleek design?"

"Easy. Just rearrange the hard drives and battery units to rest in the base of the lower platform and save the flexible cords and motion sensors for the jointed arm piece."

Peter nodded because, unlike me, he understood every word Tony had just said like it was plain English. "Genius." He breathed.

To prevent my brain from melting from their tech talk, I wandered in the direction of a glass case that preserved the legendary iron suit. The gold and red pieces were bold and intimidating. I'd never seen anything like it.

"Excuse me, sir?" A voice with a funny accent echoed through the room.

"Yes, Jarvis?" Tony vaguely answered it back.

"Director Fury would like to speak with you about the -"

"You tell Fury to keep his eyepatch on and that I'll get back to him really soon, okay?" Tony clapped his hands together, a motion that meant getting down to business. "Alright, Parker. We obviously need to talk about a few things here."

Peter straightened up slowly, his attention still occupied by Tony's robot. I had to physically drag him away from it.

Tony looked at me, snapping his fingers after forgetting my name.

"Olivia." I reminded him.

"Right, right. You obviously know about his super bug powers?"

"Yes." I said warily, unsure of how blunt I was allowed to be. "But if you don't mind me asking...how do you know?"

"How do I know?" Tony smiled at both of us. "You really have no idea why you're here, do you?"

I looked at Peter again, that same thoughtful expression on his face. He definitely knew, or at least had a good guess. Why wouldn't he tell me?

Tony spoke matter-of-factly. "You see, we have this team, a team put together by Nick Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D. Apparently we're calling ourselves the Avengers."

"Earth's mightiest heroes." Peter agreed.

"Right, so we'd all love for you to bring your nifty little Spidey powers into the mix, if you're interested. Actually, I don't think you really have a choice."

"The Avengers?" I couldn't seem to keep my jaw from dropping. "You mean like Thor and Captain America and the Hulk and Hawkeye and Black Widow?"

Peter stared at me again.

"And me." Tony added.

"You want him to - to join the Avengers?" I pointed to Peter with my jaw still hanging open.

"Well it wasn't _my_ idea." Tony shrugged it off. "Fury mentioned something about it and since you're in the neighborhood I figured I'd let you know he's willing to go to hell and back to get you to join so you might as well say yes now because he'll probably be here in a little under 48 hours with the rest of our super freaks."

Peter blinked. "They want me that badly?"

"_We_ do, yes. And I'm sure it wouldn't hurt to boost some of your publicity, considering what's been going on with you in the past few weeks." Tony means the anti-Spiderman gangs that we've come across and the citizens that the hatred has rubbed off on. "Not that I've been stalking you or anything...okay, maybe I have, but that's beside the point."

It was great news! I was prepared to start jumping up and down. I was really excited enough for the both of us, but Peter didn't seem to react much at all. He kept his composure like he always did, but this time I couldn't even see the excitement glowing in his eyes.

I took hold of Peter's hand but spoke to Tony. "Do you mind if we talk about this for a minute?"

Tony nodded like he expected a delay in our answer. He occupied himself with that crazy little robot, talking to it like a human being.

I ran my fingers up Peter's arm to catch his attention again. "What are you thinking?"

He opened his mouth, ready to speak, but shut his lips again just as fast.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know, I..." He lost his words.

"He's right, you know. Joining them will totally boost your publicity. You kind of need that right now."

Peter nodded. "I know."

"It'll give you something to do, distract you from everything that's been going on, since you have to lie low anyway." I added.

Peter watched Tony play with his cool toys. "I know."

"And it's an honor! I always knew you were one of Earth's mightiest heroes, but now you can make it official."

He half rolled his eyes at me, but I could tell he completely agreed.

"Tell you what," Tony approached us again. "I'll let you sleep on it, and then you can -"

"It's alright." Peter interrupted him, squeezing my hand in support of himself. He didn't hesitate a bit. "I'm in."


End file.
